The Pastor's Daughter
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: It's not easy being perfect.
1. Rebellion

Tami Hayes was fifteen when she decided she'd had enough of being the pastor's good and proper daughter.

Her father wasn't the problem, really, it was her mother. Her mother was the one who sat in the front pew with the girls while Reverend Hayes preached and prayed and prepared the elements. Her mother was the one who kept Tami, quite literally, under her thumb, sometimes driving the pointy appendage right into Tami's shoulder when she got too squirrelish. Once, when Tami was just six years old and her sister Shelley was but three, Mrs. Hayes had hissed to them, "If you girls don't sit still and behave, your father could lose his job!" Those words had haunted Tami for the next twelve months.

So Tami learned to smile a twinkling, southern belle smile, to shake adults' hands, to ask politely after their families and their latest bout with illness, to behave well, sit still, never swear, and dress and act like a lady. She learned that even if an elder's kids dropped the f-word or a deacon's kids went to an R rated movie, or the organist's kids played a little poker, that didn't mean _she_ could. Because if she was seen doing such things, that same elder, that same deacon, that same organist would come to her father, eyebrows raised, and tsk, tsk, tsk.

"A man who can't control his own household," Tami's mother warned her, "won't be trusted with a church."

It was Tami's mother, also, who told her, when she turned 14, "Boys are going to be interested in you something awful. Your father says you can date when you're sixteen, if he meets the boy first, but if it was up to me, you wouldn't be allowed out of the house with one. Teenage boys only want one thing. But remember, sex is for the marriage bed alone! If you so much as touch a boy in an inappropriate way, you could wind up in hell!"

"Oh calm down, Linda," her father had said, just then walking into the living room where Tami was receiving her lecture. "Tami's a good girl. She's not going to do anything foolish. Stop telling ours girls they're going to wind up in hell."

"Edward, you know full well that teenage boys are always thinking below the belt," she told him. "Don't tell me it isn't true!"

"Oh I know it's true," he said. "I know _all_ too well. " He tapped his forehead. "They should really use their sense more often." When Tami's mother left the room, her father muttered underneath his breath, "Then they wouldn't end up marrying nothing but a pretty face and a pair of lovely legs."

But Tami grew weary of being _a good girl_. She grew tired of the double standards, the expectations that seemed to apply to her and Shelley but no one else's children, the rules, her mother's ever-growing lists of _thou shalt nots_.

She longed to be free.

And so it was that, her sophomore year of high school, Tami Hayes started hanging out with kids who were _not_ active in the church youth group, friends who were _not_ pre-approved by her mother, older kids who gave her advice on how to sneak out of the house. It wasn't hard to do. Tami's mother usually went to bed early, and her father was always buried so deeply in his concordance or his Bible or his commentaries, with the door to his study tightly closed, that he hardly heard a sound.

It felt so good to be out from underneath her mother's thumb that Tami did it again and again. She went joy riding with older friends, laughed and cussed and ended up at parties, where she flirted with boys and took her first drink of alcohol. She began failing her classes, forging her report cards, and …falling in love.

His name was Boone, and he played the guitar. Not just the guitar, but also the drums. And he was tall and gorgeously blonde, with stunning blue eyes. At a party, she watched him play in silent admiration, giggling with her girlfriends about how adorable he was, and he smiled at her and said hello. At least, she _hoped_ he'd smiled at her. Every girl standing in her circle prayed _she_ was the one at whom Boone had directed that dazzling smile on his way to the kitchen.

At the next party, he actually _spoke_ to her. They had a conversation while she sipped her beer straight from the can and tried to pretend she didn't still find the taste bitter. He didn't believe in God, and he wasn't afraid to admit it, even in a small west Texas town. He was too smart and daring and honest to pretend he believed any of that nonsense. Tami laughed and batted her eyes and flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. She straightened her back and, when he wasn't looking, pulled down her shirt to reveal just a little more cleavage.

Then, at the following party, he sought her out. Boone was seventeen, and even though Tami was two years younger, _she_ managed to catch his eye. _She_ was the one he asked to go upstairs and look out the bedroom window at the stars with him. _She_ was the one he couldn't help but kiss. _She_ was the one he swore to have been watching for weeks, to have fallen head over heels for, to need with every fiber of his being. _She_ was the one whose smile made his heart patter and who he just wanted to lay down and hold, just hold….for a while…and maybe a little more, a very little more…. _She_ was the _one_.

Until the next hour she wasn't.

[*]

When Boone pretended not to know her in school on Monday, Tami wanted to blame the beer for her foolishness, but the truth was, she hadn't even been that drunk. She'd been _free_.

But now she was just empty.

She told no one, and was grateful, at least, that he'd used a condom.

And just as she had grown tired of being the pastor's good and proper daughter, Tami Hayes tired, too, of being the pastor's rebellious daughter.

She stopped hanging out with her new friends. She started trying to pull up her grades, but she would have to keep forging her report cards, or her parents would know how badly she'd done the first three quarters of her sophomore year. She prayed she could get away with it, but she'd been seen at her last party, by a deacon's college-aid kid, who told his mother he'd seen her there. The young man's mother decided to respond to this news not by upbraiding her own son for partying with younger high school girls, but by approaching the Reverend's wife and saying, "Do you have any idea what your daughter's up to?"

When her parents confronted her, the truth poured out of Tami like a river bursting through a damn. All of it. The new friends. The sneaking out. The parties. The drinking. The failing grades. All of it except her lost virginity. That secret she held back.

Her mother lit into her, a torrent of reproach billowing from her mouth, while her father stood silently by, until at last, he said, "Enough, Linda. It's enough. She'll be disciplined."

"You could lose your position!" Tami's mother cried. "Karen will start talking! And when the congregation finds out Tami's been drinking, and partying, and – "

"- I'm not going to lose my position!" her father interrupted, his voice raised in that rare way that always frightened Tami, because it was so unlike his usual gentleness toward his daughters. "No one _wants_ my position. Trust me."

Tami's father said nothing more to her that night, though she could feel his disappointment lingering in the house like a heavy cloud choking out the light.


	2. Apologies

That night, Shelley knocked on Tami's door. She came in before Tami could say anything. Tami was sitting on her bed, on top of the comforter. She'd just finished with a good cry, and she hid the tissues from Shelly's sight.

Shelley bounced down onto the bed and rolled onto her stomach beside her big sister. With her legs bent at the knees, she began kicking her feet back and forth. Shelley was a restless girl, the one who had always had the worse time sitting still in church. If the regimen was hard on Tami, it was torture for Shelley. She had always endured, but when church let out, she would run to the church playground. Even now, at twelve, Shelley still made a beeline for the jungle gym after services, throwing all that pent-up energy onto the bars.

"What was Mom yelling at you about?" Shelley asked.

"I got into trouble," Tami said. "My grades slipped." She didn't think her baby sister needed to know more than that.

"I heard from Tommy Miller that you went to a party and that you were drinking a…" Shelley lowered her voice and whispered, " _beer_."

Tami hadn't seen Tommy at any party. She couldn't _imagine_ him at any party. He was sweet, and maybe a little sweet on her, but he was lanky and pimply and geeky. Tami was polite to him, but she also tried to deflect his attentions. "How would he know?"

"So it _is_ true!" Shelley exclaimed.

"Let's just say I did some things I shouldn't have."

"I can't believe it!" Shelley said with giddy excitement.

"How does _Tommy_ know?" Tami asked.

"He heard his mom talking about it to his dad, because his dad heard about it when the church secretary was talking to one of the elders."

Tami sighed. How was she going to show her face in church on Sunday?

"So what are Mom and Dad doing to you?" Shelley asked.

"I'm grounded for the rest of the school year," Tami said. "And I have extra chores."

Shelley's blue eyes grew big. "That's _it_? I thought Mom would bury you up to your head in the back yard."

[*]

Late that night, Tami headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. She was surprised to hear her parents in there, because her mother usually went to bed early. She paused between the dinning room and the kitchen, her shoulder against the partition. Were they talking about her? Were they coming up with additional punishments?

"You better think about what you're going to say on Sunday," Tami's mother told her father.

"I think about what I'm going to say every week," he replied. "I prepare my sermon all week long."

"I mean what you're going to say when rumors start flying about Tami, because they will."

"I don't know what I _can_ say."

"You're the _pastor_. You _know_ you're going to have to say _something_ about it."

Her father's sigh was long.

"Edward, if you didn't have your nose in a book all the time," Tami's mother scolded, "maybe this never would have happened!"

"Well maybe if I received more _affection_ from my wife, I wouldn't _want_ to have my nose in a book all the time."

"And maybe if you bothered to be aware of what's going on under your own roof, I'd _want_ to be more affectionate!"

" _You_ didn't know what Tami was doing either, Linda."

"Well at least I gave her a good tongue lashing when I found out! You just stood there as silent as the grave! And then, when I'm trying to correct her, you tell me _enough_?"

"It was too much," he insisted. "What good does it do? What good has all of your lecturing done her? Did it keep her from sneaking out of the house? From going to parties? From drinking? From almost flunking out of high school?"

Tami hugged herself while she listened to her father list her every sin…all but the worst one, the one he didn't know about…the thing she'd done with Boone.

"You undermined me," Tami's mother hissed. "Right in front of our daughter, you undermined me!"

"I didn't mean to, Linda, but you wouldn't let up!"

"You're too easy on those girls. They have you wrapped around their little fingers. You need to be a man!"

There was stony silence in the kitchen. Tami thought of retreating, but she couldn't bring herself to move. What if they heard her?

The silence was broken by her father's voice. "What happened to you? What happened to that supportive, affectionate, beautiful girl I once fell in love with?"

"I don't know, Edward. Maybe she married a man without a backbone."

Shoes stomped across the kitchen tile. The kitchen door opened. It slammed shut so hard that the entire house shuddered. Tami was preparing to backtrack to her room when her mother came through the doorframe. Startled, she exclaimed, "Tami!"

"I….I was just going to get some water," Tami said.

"Oh. Well, your father's just gone for an evening stroll," Mrs. Hayes replied, smoothing a crease in her nightgown. "I'm headed to bed." She stepped past Tami. "I do hope you think good and long and hard about what you've done."

[*]

The next night, Tami was sitting on her bed, her knees almost to her chest, a book propped open on them. She had to bring her grades back up, but all she could think about was Boone and what she'd lost. What she'd thrown away. Why had she followed him to that room? Why had she agreed to lie down with him? Why hadn't she told him no at some point along the way? She hardly knew him! Why had she believed his lies? Why had she let herself think she mattered to him? And what if her father ever found out? Her mother was the disciplinarian, but it was her father's disappointment she most feared.

There was a knock on her door.

When she whispered a quiet, "Come in," her father came and sat on the edge of her bed, like he'd done when she was little, when he used to read to her from the _Chronicles of Narnia_ before tucking her in. She'd learned more religion from those magical books than she ever had from the Bible.

He put a hand on her ankle, like he had when she was little, and he looked her in the eyes, like he had when she was little, and he smiled, but _not_ like he had when she was little, not that affectionate, warm smile. His smile was sad.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said. She was a true Texas girl, and she would call the man _daddy_ until the day he died.

Her father was quietly reflective, and he rarely criticized her. He would often be off in his own world, somewhere in the depths of his mind. Her mother was right; he always seemed to have his nose in a book. He'd spent so much more time with Tami when she was younger, but as Tami had grown up, she'd needed more independence anyway. His retreat hadn't bothered her the way it apparently had her mother. He was preoccupied, perhaps, but never harsh. He was tender with his daughters, and he'd always trusted Tami to do the right thing.

His disappointment in her must be immense, and she was sorry to have let him down. "I won't drink ever again," she promised him. "I'll never sneak out. I just…I'm fifteen, Daddy! I needed some freedom. I'm in a fishbowl here! All the time!" She was crying now. "My whole life, I've been in a fishbowl! Look at the pastor's daughter!"

He swallowed and looked away. When he looked back, he spoke. "I'm ashamed."

"I know you are," she said. "Because you have to have perfect daughters."

"No. I'm ashamed because I was too absorbed in my studies and in my ministry to see what was happening under my own roof. My _first_ ministry should have been to my family. The Bible says, _if any provide not for his_ _own, and especially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is_ _worse than an_ _infidel."_

"Daddy, _I_ did stupid things. That doesn't make you an infidel."

"I said **_worse_** than an infidel."

She was accustomed to these religious guilt trips from her mother, but not from her father. "I'm so tired of _everything_ I do reflecting on you!"

"I'm sure you are, Tami, but I don't think you're hearing what I'm saying to you."

"What **_are_** you saying to me?"

" ** _You_** didn't fail me. **_I_** failed you."

That was when Tami started to cry. Her father let go of her ankle and came and sat closer to her, and she sat on the edge of the bed to let him hold her, the way he had when she was little, in a great big bear hug.

"God gives us all second chances," he told her. "I believe you'll make better choices in the future. You're going to start hanging out with more respectable friends. You're going to pull up your grades. You're not going to lie to me again. And, when you're _older_ , you're going to find a boy who actually deserves you."

What did that mean? Did he know what she'd done with Boone? He couldn't know, could he? That deacon's son who had seen her at a party – he hadn't seen her go up to the bedroom with Boone, had he? Surely not. If he had, he would have told his mother, who would have told her mother, who would be wailing and gnashing her teeth over the matter.

"You're a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate girl, Tami. You're precious to me, and you're precious in God's sight. I'm sorry if I haven't told you that enough. You're worthy, and none of these boys you've been hanging out with deserve you. Not a single one of them. And the thing I want you most to know is _this_ – you don't have to do anything with a boy – I mean anything like…" He couldn't say what he meant, though Tami knew what he meant. "You don't have to do _anything_ to make him keep liking you. If you do, he's not worthy of you."

Tami dried her eyes with the back of her hand. Her father sat there, staring at the inspirational poster on her wall, the one with a single set of footprints in the sand, and she thought he knew. He knew she'd thrown her virginity away. He knew, and he was willing himself to believe his words could matter now.

"I love you," he said, and then his jaw jumped, and his eyes watered, and he was instantly gone from her room.


	3. Gossip

After the opening prayer and hymn, Tami sat back down in the stiff, wooden pew. As one of the elders read from the scriptures, she studied her church bulletin. She felt as if every eye in the pews was upon her. She had heard the whispering that morning. Word of her wayward ways had crept and crawled through the church's grapevine.

Between Tami and their mother, Shelley sat sandwiched. The twelve year old twisted her long blonde hair around her finger and then untwirled it. She did this three more times before their mother hissed, "Quit fidgeting!"

Shelley unwound her hair and laced her fingers together in her lap. She sat straighter in the pew, but then she crossed her legs at the knee and began tapping her foot, which her mother stilled with a hand to the ankle.

The Bible was closed, and the elder stepped down. He glanced judgmentally at Tami as he walked to his own pew behind her, or at least Tami imagined he did.

The Reverend Hayes assumed the pulpit. Slowly, he sipped a glass of water and then set it back down. He cleared his throat. In that deep, confident voice he reserved for emphasizing particular points, usually not until toward the _end_ of his sermons, he suddenly announced, " _Whoever slanders his neighbor secretly I will destroy_."

Tami's mother let go of Shelley's ankle and stared, slightly agape, at her husband in the pulpit.

"That's what God says, through the Psalmist." Reverend Hayes looked about the congregation. "And the author of Proverbs tells us that _an evildoer listens to wicked lips, and a liar gives ear to a mischievous tongue_. He tells us that _A talebearer revealeth secrets: but he that is of a faithful spirit concealeth the matter."_

He gripped the edges of the pulpit. "And do you think that's all, brothers and sisters?" He shook his head. "That doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. Titus tells us to _speak evil of no one, to be gentle._ Timothy tells us to _avoid_ _irreverent babble_ , because it won't help people to better themselves, but will _lead them into more and more ungodliness_."

Shelley kept glancing at Tami. Their mother, shocked, stared straight ahead.

"And what does our Lord's brother James say?" The Reverend opened his Bible with a smack. " _If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue, that person's religion is worthless_. Worthless!" The thin pages of his Bible rustled loudly as he flipped them. " _Do not speak evil against one another, brothers. The one who judges his brother judges the law. But if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law, but a judge._ " More rustling. " _The tongue is a small part of the body, and see how great a forest is set aflame by such a small fire!_ _And the tongue is a fire, the very world of iniquity; the tongue sets on fire the course of our life, and is set on fire by hell._ "

His usually light gray eyes were as dark as storm clouds as he looked out at the congregation, deliberately picked up his water glass, and slowly sipped. He set it down and asked, "Shall I go on? I have a hundred more." Silence from the pews. "Well, I suppose I won't read every one of them this morning. Suffice it to say- idle gossip does nothing to benefit the body. We are _all_ sinners, _all_ of us, and we have _all_ fallen short of the glory of God, and we would _all_ do well to remember that, wouldn't we, brothers and sisters?"

Tami feared the silence that followed her father's words.

"Wouldn't we?" Reverend Hayes repeated.

Tami closed her eyes as the weight of the silence fell heavily on her soul. But then, from three pews behind her, came one lone, loud, "Amen!"

Instinctively she turned, and she saw there a boy she recognized, faintly, from the junior varsity football team. He was only a sophomore, like her, but they had put him in once during the last varsity game in November, after both the first and second string quarterback had injured themselves. She didn't share any classes with him, and he wasn't at any of the parties she'd gone to (which had mostly been with the artsy, angsty crowd). She couldn't quite remember his name, though she recognized the elderly couple with whom he was sitting as regulars.

Several other _Amens_ followed the chorus the boy had begun.

A slender thread of relief began to unwind in Tami's tense body.

[*]

Tami and her mother always stood at the door to the church after the service with Reverend Hayes. For some reason, perhaps her tendency to talk too much, Shelley was excused from this family duty. Today, Tami smiled more broadly than usual at one particular parishioner, the young man who had called out the first _Amen_. "I think I know you from school," she said as he shook her father's hand.

"Yeah, you look familiar," he said. "Tanya, right?"

"Tami," she said.

"I'm Mo McArnold. I'm visiting with my grandparents. I usually go to First Baptist with my mother."

"Well, young Mr. McArnold," the Reverend Hayes said, beaming at him, "We would love to see you in our pews again."

[*]

When they got into the station wagon after church, and Reverend Hayes started the car, Tami's mother opened her mouth and began to speak. "I – "

"- I don't want to hear it, Linda."

Her mother closed her mouth. She waited until they were out of the church parking lot to speak again. "I was just going to say, Edward, that I was impressed by your sermon today."

Tami's father turned his eyes from the road. He looked at his wife as though he wasn't sure whether or not to believe her.


	4. Permission

For the rest of her sophomore year, Tami came straight home from school, did her chores, and studied until dinner, and again from dinner until bed time. She tried desperately to make up for all she hadn't learned the first three-fourths of the year. She managed to pass all of her classes except Geometry, but she had devastated her cumulative GPA.

When she handed her father her final report card, he was reading in the armchair in his study. The Reverend Hayes closed his book, which had some Latin title Tami couldn't understand, and set it on the end table. He rustled the paper in front of himself and read the grades. "I presume these aren't forged this time. I suppose you would have given yourself better year-end grades."

"Yes, sir. I'm so sorry I lied. I will _never_ lie to you again."

[*]

Tami had no intention of dating anyone her junior year. She wanted to concentrate on school, and she was also planning to try out for the volleyball team, which could mean early morning practices and Saturday games. She would be too busy for boys, and, besides, she'd made a promise to herself that she wasn't going to make the same mistake she'd made with Boone.

But Mo McArnold was no Boone.

That summer after her sophomore year, he began attending her church regularly. He sat with his grandparents three pews behind her, week after week. He talked to her before church, at the fellowship table, and after service in the field out front where boys threw footballs and girls giggled about which was the cutest. He joined the youth choir, and his voice was beautiful. Tami couldn't believe he was both an athlete and a singer, and she couldn't deny that he was cute.

So when, the last week of summer, Mo finally phoned and asked her out, she walked the mile and a half from the parsonage to the church. She wasn't going to sneak around this time. She was going to ask her father's permission directly.

Tami entered through the foyer of the church and walked down the covered underpass through the courtyard to the classroom wing, where her father's office also resided. She loved the church smell that inhabited these old buildings, brick mingled with wood and the scent of flowers. There was a new nondenominational church meeting in the firehouse now, where the congregation sat on folding chairs each Sunday morning, and Tami couldn't imagine feeling reverent in such a space. Sometimes she thought she loved this building more than she loved the people in it, though she was trying to learn to love them better. They were all of them human, her father had told her, even the gossips and the busy bodies, all flesh and blood creatures just like her, trying to figure out how to live.

When she arrived outside her father's office, Tami saw that his door was closed and asked the secretary if he was available.

"He's in a counseling session," she said, "but he should be done in a few minutes."

Tami waited on the couch outside his office. It was remarkable, she thought, how many people her father counseled, how many secrets he must know, and yet he always kept their confidences, no matter how much his parishioners might gossip about _him_.

The door to her father's office opened, and out came Tami's mother. Startled, she asked Tami, "What are you doing here, dear?"

"I just wanted to talk to Daddy."

Mrs. Hayes glanced behind herself, where another man was emerging from the Reverend's office. "I'll see you two next week," the man said and headed down the hall. Tami had never seen him at church before.

"Are you helping Daddy…counsel?" Tami asked her mother. She couldn't imagine her mother playing such a role. Mrs. Hayes was not precisely easy to talk to.

"No, we were just…I…we…" Tami had never seen her mother look so flustered.

"Are you here to see me, princess?" asked her father, who had just appeared in the open door frame.

Tami nodded and rose from the couch. Her mother said, "I'll see you at home, Edward. Would you like lasagna tonight?"

"Yes," he answered, and then he seemed to think. "Please. You make a fantastic lasagna, Linda. I really appreciate the time you take to cook for all of us."

Tami's mother smiled at him, a sort of humored smile, and she walked on.

Reverend Hayes motioned Tami inside his office. He shut the door behind her and sat down across from her in his big, rolling desk chair. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?" he asked.

"What was Mom doing in here when you were counseling someone? And who _was_ that man?"

Tami's father rolled a pen across the calendar on his desk, forward then back. "Never you mind that," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Daddy! What's going on? Is everything okay?"

He sighed. He leaned back in his chair, a hand on each arm, and bounced. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me ever again. I suppose I should be honest with you, too."

"Please do."

"I wasn't counseling that man. _He_ was counseling _me_. And your mother. He's…he's a marriage counselor. From our sister church in Odessa. He comes once a week for our sessions."

"How long has this been going on?" Tami asked.

"Two months now. Listen, Tami, I don't want to alarm you. We just…we've both agreed we need a little help."

They needed a _lot_ of help, Tami thought. "Okay. I'm glad you and mom are seeing a counselor."

"I love your mother," he said firmly.

Tami wasn't sure how true that was. She believed he was _faithful_ to her mother, but that wasn't quite the same thing as love.

"Don't tell Shelley about this," he continued. "I don't want to worry her. You're old enough to…understand, but Shelley - "

"- I get it," Tami told him. "And speaking of me being old enough…" She told him that Mo had asked her out and that she wanted to accept.

"We said you could date when you were sixteen, Tami. And your recent…escapades…have made me think of revising that age to seventeen."

"I'll be sixteen in less than two months. And Daddy, all the other girls started dating their freshman years! Some started in 8th grade!"

"Well they must not have fathers to look out for them, then."

"They all have fathers. Well…most of them. At least half, anyway." She was suddenly very glad to have a father, even if she was going to have to convince him to let her date Mo. Tami smiled her sweetest smile, the one she knew tugged on her father's heart strings. "Don't you like him?" she asked. "He's a good Christian boy. He goes to youth group. He sings in the choir."

"He's also a football player."

"What's wrong with football players?" Tami's family went to the high school games sometimes, because they were the social nexus of the town, but not more than three or four times a season. She hadn't grown up with football games lighting up the television. Her father would rather read a book than watch sports. Tami wasn't as dismissive of football as her father was; she could enjoy a game when she had someone to root for, but she didn't understand what made it the center of the universe in Texas. She'd never wanted to be a cheerleader or a rally girl. "It'll be fun to see Mo play," she said.

"This town is obsessed with football. And what's the point of it, really? It's so tribal."

"Daddy – "

He waved a hand. "I've seen some of these boys, Tami, these football players. They can become like idols in a town like this, and they can let it go to their heads. They develop a sense of entitlement. They get in trouble, and they get away with it, because football is so very important. More important than academics. More important than morality."

"Daddy, you're exaggerating."

"They treat girls as a game, these football players. They treat them as a conquest to be put up on the scoreboard."

"Mo's not like that, Daddy. You _know_ he's not."

"I don't think he is," her father admitted, "but I think he's going to be exposed to a world of temptation before long. I gather he's a good player and he'll be put on the varsity team this year. He'll probably be the starting quarterback before the season is over."

"So? It's not as if he's at all like - " she was about to say Boone, but she stopped herself. She still hoped her father knew nothing about that. "He's not like _that_."

"Why do you like him? Because he's a handsome young fellow, I suppose?"

She smiled. "He's sweet. He always says the nicest things to me. He opens doors for the old ladies, helps them to their cars. You've seen it. He sings well, too." She thought about what her father would care about, and ventured, "I think he gets good grades."

Reverend Hayes rocked in his chair. "You know his parents are going through a difficult divorce?"

"He told me. That's why he started to come to church here. Everyone in his parents' church know about it…talk about it. He just wanted to go someplace else."

"His mother thinks we're heathen, what with the infant baptism. She's not thrilled about Mo coming to this church with his grandparents."

"I know. He told me. What does any of that have to do with me dating him?"

Her father sighed. "Nothing, I suppose. He just doesn't have a very good example of a relationship in his parents."

Tami raised an eyebrow.

Her father nodded his head. "Touché," he said. "But _we're_ working on it, your mother and I." He cleared his throat. "You have my permission to go on a date with Mo McArnold," he announced. "But he picks you up at our house. He comes inside, and he talks to me and to your mother. He tells us where he's taking you. And he has you home by 9:30."

"9:30!"

"9:45."

"10:30, Daddy, please."

"9:55. And that's my final offer."

Tami smiled. "Accepted." She stood from the chair. "Maybe you should date."

"What?" he asked.

"Maybe you and Mom should date."

He tapped the arms of his chair. "Maybe we should."


	5. Getting Serious

Mo brought Tami flowers on their first date. He charmed her parents. He charmed her. Tami didn't know what her father had been worried about. Mo was the model gentleman. She had a wonderful time, and all he wanted in the end was a kiss.

They began dating regularly. Yes, when he got moved up to the varsity team, Mo walked with a little more swagger than he had in the past, but he didn't get in trouble. Sure, when he got the starting quarterback position, he began to expect a little more leeway on the due dates for his assignments, but he still kept up his grades. Yes, he quit the church choir, but he just didn't have time to rehearse with all that football practice. And of course he got more attention from cheerleaders, and maybe he smiled at them a little more than Tami would like, but he told them all he had a girlfriend.

In short, Tami was certain her father had been wrong. Mo's popularity wasn't going to change him.

In November of their junior year, after playoffs, when the Tigers didn't quite make it to State, Tami comforted Mo with a steamy make-out session in the back seat of the car that Mo's father had bought him in an attempt to buy his affection after the divorce. Tami let Mo feel her up without her bra on, but when he asked for a blow job, she told him no: "I want to take it slowly. I'm not even sure if I want to have sex before marriage." She hoped he understood. He was a good, Christian boy, after all.

"I understand," he said. "But...a blowjob's not really sex."

"It's close," she told him. "I just want to take it slowly." Chewing slightly on her bottom lip, she waited anxiously for his response.

"Okay," he said, and kissed her, and then he asked, "Could you at least…you know…a hand job? My balls are turning blue here."

Tami complied, though she wished he hadn't asked so directly and crudely. She wished he'd let it happen in the course of making out, at her initiation, if it was going to happen. She wished it had been more romantic.

"A _romantic hand job_?" Shelley asked when Tami shared her complaint the next evening, in the privacy of Shelley's bedroom. Shelley was thirteen and a half now, and Tami had thought she could begin sharing with her on a more equal level. " _A romantic hand job_!" Shelley squealed again, and, howling with laughter, she threw herself, back down, on her bed.

That was the last time Tami ever talked to her little sister about her sex life.

[*]

Tami was relieved when football season was over. It meant Mo had a little less attention from cheerleaders and other girls. For Valentine's day, he gave her a pendant to wear around her neck as a symbol of his commitment. "You're my one and only, honey babe," he told her. "I love you."

His _I love you_ sung in her heart, and for days to follow, she would admire her pendant, feel the silver beneath her fingertips, angle the little sapphire until it twinkled in the overhead light.

Yes, her father had been wrong about football players. Mo was a wonderful boyfriend.

By April, however, he was pressuring her for sex. His hints were subtle, and his complaints were veiled, but the message was clear. Tami feared losing him if she held back. Besides, how fair was it to Mo to keep saying no? She'd said yes to Boone, after all, and she was nothing to him. Mo had dated her for so long. He was her _boyfriend_. They were going _steady_. And she loved him.

So the night of their junior prom, they left the dance early and went back to Mo's house. His mother, making up for lost time since the divorce, was out on a date.

Tami lied, told Mo she was a virgin, and asked him to be gentle. "Of course you are," he said. "So am I."

She gave herself to him that night, in his twin bed, with the lava lamp slow dancing its thick waves of red and blue and green on the nightstand beside them.

[*]

One evening in June, Tami stood in the doorway of her father's home study. "Mom said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Shut the door."

She did, and she sat down in his armchair, the one he sat in for pleasure reading, when he wasn't behind his desk. He scooted the chair out from behind his desk so he could sit across from her.

"This isn't going to be a comfortable conversation," he said, "but I'm going to have it with you anyway."

Tami felt suddenly cold. "Are you and Mom getting a divorce? I thought things were better."

"No!" he exclaimed. "I would never divorce your mother. I made a vow to her. And things _are_ going better on that front. Haven't you noticed that she's more – "

"- Pleasant?" Tami asked.

He nodded and smiled slightly. "I think we were both waiting for the other one to change, but change can spark change. I didn't realize how much influence my words and actions could have on her moods. I imagined it was all her doing. That was my failing." He shook his head. "I counsel so many people. I don't know how I can see other people's needs and problems so clearly, and yet when I try to read myself, it's like looking through a glass darkly."

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No. Something else." He sat back in his chair. "This thing with Mo is getting quite serious."

She smiled. She touched her pendant.

"You've been dating for a while, and I know how boys are when they've been dating a girl for a while, even good Christian boys. They can begin to…exert a certain amount of pressure."

Tami's eyes fell straight to the dark brown shag carpet of the study floor.

"And I just wanted to make it clear to you, in case I haven't already, that you don't have to do anything, Tami, anything at all. If Mo's as good a young man as you think he is, and as I _hope_ he is, he won't _expect_ it."

"Yes, sir," she said quietly, the guilt welling up within her, because she and Mo had been having sex for two months now. She enjoyed it, but she did wish she had waited longer, or that every date didn't seem to be a rush to bed or to the backseat of Mo's car.

"I also want you to know," he said, "that if a girl were to have sex with a boy, that doesn't mean she has to keep doing it. Or, if she were to have sex with a boy, and they were to break up, that doesn't mean she has to have sex with the _next_ boy she dates."

"I know, Daddy!" she insisted with exasperation. "No sex before marriage. I know. It's wrong. Mom has told me a thousand times."

"You're not hearing what I'm saying to you, Tami." He sighed. "Just don't…" He leaned forward in his chair and put his hand over her hand. "Be smart, Tami. And above all, be _you_. Don't be what you think someone else wants you to be, or what you think you're obligated to be."

Though she would process his words in time, at the moment, as far as Tami was concerned, her father might as well be speaking Latin.

 **[*]**

On the first day of Tami's senior year, four cheerleaders were chattering in the girls' bathroom as Tami tried to fix her makeup. She and Mo had been in a fight that morning, because he'd said he didn't think he could make it to her first varsity volleyball game on Saturday. She had gone to every one of his football games last season, and this game was important to her. They'd made her team captain! She'd cried a little, and her mascara had run. Mo had apologized, kissed her on the cheek, and promised to try to rearrange his schedule.

"Where's he from again?" Cindy Miller asked.

They were talking about the new kid at school, a certain Eric Taylor.

"Austin, I think," Marie Washington said.

"No, Dallas," Sue Beth Hershey corrected her.

"They put him on the varsity team his _freshman_ year!" Anita Nesbith exclaimed.

"He won a state championship his junior year," Marie added.

Tami applied her mascara cautiously. The first time she'd tried to use it, at the age of fifteen, she'd ended up poking herself in the eye. To this day, she was still careful about the process.

"He has the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen," Sue Beth gushed, "What color is that?"

"Hazel," Cindy answered. "But who cares about his eyes. My god, that _voice_. Did you hear him when Mrs. McNichols made him introduce himself in English class?"

"Voice, how can you possibly care about his voice?" Marie asked. "Those arms. My God."

"Arms?" Anita Nesbith cried. "How about that ass?" She turned to Tami. "What do you think, Tam Tam?" Tami hated when she called her that. "Arms or ass?"

"I have a boyfriend, thank you," Tami replied. "With very nice arms. And a very nice ass."

"Just because you're on a diet doesn't mean you can't look at the menu," Anita told her.

"Easy for you to say," Cindy quipped. "You're _never_ on a diet."

"Well, I can't possibly tie myself to one guy," Anita replied. "Though I wouldn't mind letting Eric Taylor tie me up a few times."

All the girls laughed, except for Tami, who rolled her eyes.

"Well I call dibs on him," Marie said.

"Like hell you do!" Anita cried. "Besides, I already asked him to the homecoming dance."

"What?" Marie exclaimed. "Already? On the first day of school? Homecoming is three weeks away."

"Hey, I act fast."

"Well," Cindy muttered, "we _all_ know that."

Tami tried not to smile.

"What did he say?" Marie asked.

Tami recapped her mascara and threw it in her book bag. It was time to go, but she was curious to hear the response.

"He said he just broke up with his steady girlfriend back home, so he wasn't sure if he should rush into dating anyone. So _I_ said, how would you like to rush in to the best blowjob you've ever had in your life?"

Marie gasped. "You did not!"

Cindy sighed. "Of _course_ she did."

"And what did _he_ say?" Sue Beth asked.

"He didn't say anything. He just blinked and turned around and walked into his class. I think he thought I was joking."

The warning bell rang for second period. Tami slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed out the door.


	6. Observing Eric

Tami finally laid eyes on Eric Taylor during her last class of the day - U.S. Government. The cheerleaders were right. He did have gorgeous eyes, muscular arms, and a lovely ass. The voice she didn't know about. Mr. Thomas, a boring teacher who only lectured and never held class discussions, didn't even ask Eric to introduce himself.

While most students chatted during the last five minutes of class when Mr. Thomas let them "get started on the homework," Eric didn't. Tami, who sat directly behind him, saw that he was sketching play diagrams in a spiral notebook. He spoke to no one, and that, somehow, made him even more attractive.

Dark.

Handsome.

Mysterious.

 **[*]**

Tami glanced at the empty spot at the end of the first pew where Mo usually sat beside her, holding her hand. She missed it more than she had expected she would. There was something special about a hand held in church. But last week, Mo had said, "I really think I should start going to church with my mother again. I'm going away to college in less than a year. I should spend more time with her." Tami had greeted his announcement calmly enough. In fact, she took this consideration for his mother as a sign that he really was the same Mo she'd first fallen for. Mo was being a dutiful son to his mother, and who couldn't admire a dutiful son?

After the service, Tami stood by the church door and handed out smiles as her father handed out handshakes. She was just saying, "Bye, y'all" to a departing couple when she saw Eric Taylor.

As Mr. Taylor shook the hand of Reverend Hayes, Tami shot Eric one of her signature smiles. Most boys would have caught it giddily like candy tossed at a parade, blushed or flustered, but he just stood silently beside his father, his lips a straight line, and nodded to her. She thought those cheerleaders from the bathroom would _flip out_ if they could see him filling out that dark suit, the red tie setting off the lighter browns in his eyes.

Eric's father was even taller than he was, and his hair was just as dark and thick, though it was peppered with a few specks of gray. His eyes were the color of Hershey's chocolate. Next to him stood Eric's mother, a pretty woman, a full head shorter than her husband, with golden brown hair and sparkling green eyes.

"Are you visiting with us today?" Reverend Hayes asked the family.

"Yes," Mr. Taylor replied. "We've just moved from Houston."

So the cheerleaders were wrong. Tami momentarily envied Eric Taylor his former chance to live in a place with museums and diverse restaurants and a lot of people who didn't even know him. Tami had always wanted to live in a city. The culture lured her, but the anonymity attracted her even more.

"I hope you enjoyed the service," Reverend Hayes said. "We'd love to have you again next week."

"Not next week," Mr. Taylor replied. "We're going to visit a few more churches before we decide where to attend. We're Episcopalian, but the closest Episcopal church is over thirty miles away, so I suppose we'll have to settle for something else."

Tami watched her father raise his head slightly on the word _settle_. "Well," the Reverend Hayes replied, "one should never be hasty in _settling_ on a home. But we do hope you come back again. Mr. Taylor, Mrs. Taylor, and - " He turned his head to Eric.

"You probably know Eric already," Mr. Taylor said. "I'm sure his reputation precedes him."

" _Dad_ ," Eric hissed beneath his breath, and his face flushed.

The Reverend Hayes turned his eyes to Tami without turning his head. Those eyes told her he was quite at a loss as to the subject of the boy's reputation.

"You don't know?" Mr. Taylor asked. "Eric has been the _starting_ quarterback of Sam Houston High's Wildcats for two seasons. He took the team to the State Championships last year, and they won. He already has a state ring."

"Ah," the Revered Hayes said.

"Well that's remarkable," Tami's mom chimed in. "When's the first game of the season?"

Mr. Taylor looked at her as though she had just asked who the current president was. "This coming Friday, of course."

The Reverend now turned his attention to Mrs. Taylor. "Just the one child?" he asked her pleasantly.

Again, it was Eric's father who answered. "We have a daughter who recently graduated magna cum laude from TCU. She works in Dallas as an accountant."

"She's an actuary, darling," Mrs. Taylor said, speaking for the first time.

"That's what I said, Janet."

"TCU," the Reverend Hayes said. "A fine school."

"Kathleen received a _full_ academic scholarship to that institution," Mr. Taylor boasted. "And Eric here," he clapped his hand down on the boy's shoulder, "will likely be getting a football scholarship and a spot on one of the top ten football teams. Isn't that right, son?"

"I'll try, sir."

"We don't _try_ in this family, Eric. We _do_."

"Yes, sir," Eric replied.

"Well, you know what the Bible says," the Reverend Hayes told Mr. Taylor. "We may make our plans, but God has the last word."

Mr. Taylor laughed, as though he thought the Reverend were joking. "Well let's be on our way, Eric," he said. "We've got an afternoon game to watch. And you better be taking notes this time. I don't want to see a repeat of that confused play you made last season." He placed a hand on the small of his wife's back.

Eric's mother smiled silently at the Hayes family and let herself be guided out the door.

"Sheesh," Tami's mother muttered when the Taylors were out of earshot. "I wonder if he ever lets her speak for herself."

"See," Reverend Hayes replied. "Your husband's not so bad. It could be worse. You could be married to _that_ pompous ass."

Mrs. Hayes shot her husband a teasing smile. "He sure was easy on the eyes though."

The Reverend looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. "I'm going to have to keep an eye on you," he said, but he was smiling back.

 **[*]**

"He never talks," Marie said as she checked her lipstick in the mirror of the girls' bathroom.

Tami was being careful about her mascara again.

"Eric you mean?" Cindy asked.

"Of course, Eric," Marie replied. "He's so…." She sighed dreamily. " _Brooding_."

"Or maybe he just doesn't have anything smart to say," Anita muttered.

Cindy tilted her blonde head and smirked. "Sounds like somebody got turned down for the homecoming dance when she asked a _second_ time."

"That's ridiculous," Anita replied. "No one on the football team turns me down."

Tami cleared her throat.

Anita shot her a fake smile. "Excepting the boyfriends of present company, of course."

[*]

"Does that new kid ever talk at practice?" Tami asked Mo at lunch. "Eric Taylor?"

"Yeah, he runs his mouth all the time," Mo said, opening his milk carton.

"What do you mean?"

"He's always suggesting plays. Like _he_ was the coach. And the really annoying thing is that Coach lets him. Doesn't reprimand him for it."

"Well…are they good plays?"

"What does that matter? He's not the coach. He's not even team captain." Mo chugged his milk and set it down hard. " _I_ am."

"Well someone's in a bad mood today," she said.

"Did you know coach is thinking about starting Eric instead of me in Friday's game?"

Tami shook her head.

"I could lose my chance at a scholarship if I don't get enough field time this season."

Mo had never suggested he thought he had a chance at a scholarship before. He was an above average player on a mediocre team that had never made it to a state championship. Fewer than 8% of high school players ever got college scholarships. No one was scouting Mo. In the past, he'd always told Tami that he thought football was for fun, and that he might or might not play in college, and he was going to major in business.

"Hey," she said softly, putting her hand over his. "It's just football. You're a smart guy. You'll be successful in life whatever you do."

He pulled his hand away. " _Just_ football? Where have you been living, Tami?"

[*]

Tami flopped down in her father's arm chair. He was in his desk chair, bent over a commentary, scribbling notes. "Daddy, I need a car," she said. "I'm a senior. I'm 17. Everyone else has a car."

"Everyone else most decidedly does not have a car," he said, without looking up.

"Mo won't give me a ride to school in the mornings anymore, because my volleyball practice is so early."

"That's what they have the early school bus for." He turned a page in his legal pad and resumed writing.

"No seniors ride the bus. Not even any juniors ride the bus."

"Then take your bicycle. It's only three miles."

"I'd have to ride on the street for a mile. Doesn't that frighten you?"

"Not in the least," he replied.

"Please? Just some cheap, used car. You have no idea how embarrassing it is not to have a car."

He sighed and finally looked up. "Margaret needs to reduce her hours. She's caring for her elderly mother. I could use a little extra help in the church office. I'll drive you to school and back so you don't have to be mortified on the bus. You can work at the church after school, from 2:30 to 4:45, Monday through Friday, so you have time for your studies."

"How long will it take me to earn a car?" she asked.

"However long I decide it will."

[*]

Tami watched Eric in government class to see if he would speak. When they were supposed to be silently reading the next chapter of their book, Eric was drawing play diagrams again. Tami wondered when, or if, he did his work. Surely he must. His father probably expected perfect grades.

Mr. Thomas stepped out to speak to an administrator in the hall, and Kimberley, who was sitting in front of Eric, turned around and asked him where he was from. Kimberley was a cute, sweet girl who was on Tami's volleyball team, and she and Tami hung out from time to time.

"Houston most recently," Eric answered.

"Most recently?" Kimberley asked. "Where else have you lived?"

"Dallas. San Antonio. El Paso. McAllen." He returned his attention to the diagrams.

"Is your dad military?" she asked.

He didn't reply. She repeated her question, a little louder. He didn't look up from his drawings, but he answered, "No."

"Then why do you move around so much?"

Eric put down his pen. He glanced to his left and then to his right. He leaned toward Kimberley and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but we're in witness protection."

Kimberley giggled. Eric resumed his play diagrams. She resumed talking to him, but, after not getting more than a word or two response to her next three questions, she gave up and left him to his drawings.

[*]

At Friday's game, Coach alternated Mo and Eric, giving each equal play time. Mo was daring, while Eric was cautious. Mo energized the team, while Eric kept them focused. Mo laughed and whooped and hollered whenever the team scored, while Eric mostly just looked relieved.

The Tigers won.

After the game, Mo took Tami out for ice cream to celebrate. He was going to a party later, but Tami couldn't accompany him. In deference to her father, and in penance for her rebellious year, she now only went to parties for which he gave his (often reluctant) permission. This one was being hosted by a high school graduate, a former Tiger who was now twenty, and who had once spent a year in juvie. The Reverend did _not_ approve.

Tami took a bite of ice cream and licked the spoon.

"Did you see that rushing touchdown I made?" Mo asked.

She offered him her praise and rewarded him with strawberry-laced kisses across the table.

"Eric never even set foot in the end zone," he said when he pulled away. "He never even threw a particularly long pass."

Tami did not mention that Eric's completion rate was very high, or that the team scored 24 points while he was on the field and only 13 while Mo was on the field.

Mo glanced at his watch. "We should get going."

"You said you'd spend an hour with me before you went to the party."

He grinned. "Yeah, but I didn't mean at the ice cream shop. I know a great place where we can park and… _celebrate_."

They hadn't had a _real_ date in a while, and Tami thought of telling him no, that she just wanted to go for a walk and hold hands and talk, but he _had_ just won a game.

She smiled. "Okay, but you better take your time, even if that makes you late for the party."


	7. Eric Speaks

Occasionally, Tami liked to study at Bo's Bakery & Coffee in the "historic downtown," a 1.5-mile strip along Main Street that also contained the parsonage (at one end) and her father's church (at the other). When she walked in at 5 PM Wednesday evening after finishing up her two hours of work at the church office, she found Eric Taylor _behind_ the counter.

"When did you start working here?" she asked.

"Monday. What can I get you?"

"Just decaff coffee," she said.

They made the exchange of money for coffee, and Tami didn't try to make conversation with him, which she thought would have been an impossible task anyway. Instead, she settled into a two-person table and concentrated on studying for her upcoming math test. She was working another practice problem when she heard the chair across from her scrape over the floor.

Tami looked up and saw Eric sitting there. The shop was empty and all of the other chairs were up on the tables. A mop leaned against the counter. The watch Mo had given her last Christmas read 6:52. Everything downtown closed at 7 on weekdays.

"I'd really like to go home, Tami," he said. "It is Tami, right?"

"Yes," she said.

"You're Mo's girlfriend."

Why did she always have to be identified by her relationship to some male figure? The pastor's daughter. Mo's girlfriend. Why not the varsity volleyball player? Or the assistant yearbook editor? Or the former junior class treasurer?

"How can you be working here?" she asked. "With football?"

"I only work from 4:30 to close, Monday through Thursday."

"But how do you get here by 4:30?"

"Coach keeps practice to an hour and a half. It's over at 4. I shower quick."

"Mo doesn't leave practice until after 5."

"I don't linger the way he does." He glanced at the door, at the sign he had already turned to closed.

"Are you taking Anita Nisbeth to the homecoming dance?" she asked. "I know she asked you."

"I don't like dances."

She was annoyed by his brusqueness, which now seemed more rude than mysterious. "Why? Are you too cool for them? Or do you just not want to rush into the best blow job of your life?" Had she _really_ just said that? What if Anita had been making that up? What if Eric had no idea what she was talking about?

"You small town girls sure are different."

She flushed. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why on earth I said that. I just heard Anita talking in the bathroom, and she said she said - "

He chuckled, and with his chuckle came a smile that made him look so much more approachable. "Yeah, she did say that. Was she serious, do you think?"

Smiling with relief, Tami asked, "Why? Do you wish you hadn't turned down the date now?"

"I'm not really interested in blow jobs from random girls I hardly know."

"Well, that would make you different from a lot of guys on the team."

"We're not all like that."

"I know. Mo's not." Tami suddenly wondered what Eric would think of her if he knew what she'd done with Boone. "I'm in no position to judge," she muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean…you know, judge not, lest ye be not judged."

"Are you really religious?" he asked.

"Well…My dad _is_ a pastor."

"Yeah, but do _you_ believe all that?"

Tami closed her math book. No one had ever asked her that before. It was presumed she believed what her father preached. "I…think so. Why? Don't you believe in God?"

"Yeah," Eric answered. "I believe in God. I'm not so sure about the wise men and the star and the virgin birth and all that. I think maybe it's just a story. It's the _point_ that matters, not the details."

"Then why go to church, if the details don't matter?" she asked.

"Same reason you go to church. Your parents make you."

Tami mused on this. "I'm not sure that's the only reason I go," she said. "I think I'm _always_ going to go."

"Why?" he asked.

Tami was used to people telling her what she _should_ believe about everything from sex and God to football, but she wasn't used to people simply asking her what she _did_ believe, or _why_ she believed it, as if she were an...individual. "I guess because…the gospel is beautiful, and I like hearing it and walking through it every year in church. And church is about community and family and mutual support. At its _best_ , anyway, church is those things."

"And at its worst?" he asked.

"A den of gossips," she muttered. "It's not easy being the pastor's daughter. People are always watching you. You can't imagine what that's like. Not being able to just…mess up."

"Oh, I can imagine. In football, people are always watching, too. The coach is watching. The fans are watching. The college scouts, maybe, are watching. And my father – my father is always, always, watching. I can't mess up. Not even a little. And if I do – I don't hear the end of it."

"My dad's not like that, at least," Tami said. "He's actually a pretty mellow guy. Forgiving. Gentle."

"Really? Mo said he was scary."

"What?"

"Said he sat him down and gave him a deathly serious talk about dating you and what would happen to him if he mistreated you."

"No, he didn't." Tami shook her head in disbelief.

"Something about wailing and gnashing of teeth, and a worm that never perishes."

"My dad did not say that!"

He chuckled that adorable chuckle again. "Okay, I made that last part up. But Mo _is_ a little intimidated by your dad. I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to date a pastor's daughter."

"Why? What did your last girlfriend's father do? Make teddy bears?"

"He was a butcher."

Tami laughed. "Then I hope you let her down gently when you broke up with her."

"She broke up with me actually."

"Because of the distance?"

He nodded. "Two years we were together."

"Wow. Mo and I have been together for thirteen months. I thought _that_ was a long time."

"Two years, and she couldn't even last two weeks. Called me up and said she wanted to see someone else."

"That's harsh."

He nodded and looked away.

"Are you coming back to our church?" she asked, trying to draw him back into conversation. "Or did your parents find someplace else to… _settle_?"

"Yeah, sorry my dad …" He shook his head. "He can be kind of…."

"Tactless?"

"Yeah," Eric said, "Sorry about that. And all that bragging he did about me. That was embarrassing."

"Maybe he's just proud of you," Tami offered, feeling bad about ragging on his dad. She wouldn't like it if someone criticized her father to her face.

"Except he's not. He only brags about me in front of other people. When we're alone, it's just one long list of everything I've done wrong."

"Is your mom always that quiet?" Tami asked.

"She's pretty quiet around my dad. But she's actually really outgoing when you get her apart from him. She's like a different person." He abruptly changed the subject. "Listen, tell Mo I'm sorry."

"For what?" Tami asked.

"You know. Taking his position. I suppose he told you Coach decided to make me QB1?"

Mo had _not_ told her that. "He doesn't care," Tami lied. "Football's just fun for him."

"I wish that were true," Eric said. "But it's pretty clear he resents me. And it's not good for the team, that tension. So I'm just asking…you know…since you're his girl and all, if you could, maybe, put in a good word for me."

"I don't even know you," she said. "What kind of word do you want me to put in?"

"Just…maybe…hey, Eric's an okay guy. Trust me. He didn't want to have to move to some small town and lose his girlfriend just so he could take your place on a team that's only half as good as the one he left. But his dad made him."

"Why did your dad move you?" Tami asked. "If he cares so much about you getting a football scholarship, why wouldn't he leave you on the team where you won State?"

"He couldn't pass up a good business opportunity."

Tami's brow crinkled. "What kind of business opportunities are there in this town?"

"He bought The Drunken Kickoff." Two months ago, the bank foreclosed on the sports bar, and it had gone up for auction, furniture, wall hangings, inventory and all. "It's the fifth bar he's bought in fifteen years. He buys a bar, improves it, oversees it for a few years, then sells it a profit and moves on to the next one."

"So that's why you've lived so many places. Not witness protection, after all, huh?" she smiled. He looked confused. "I overheard you joking to Kimberley in Government."

"Oh."

"Kimberley's on my volleyball team," Tami said. "She's nice, and she's doesn't have a boyfriend, if you're looking for someone to take to the homecoming dance who's not…you know…Anita Nisbeth."

"If I were looking, I would take that under advisement."

"Isn't the Drunken Kickoff still closed?"

"My dad's been having some renovations done," Eric replied. "Then he's going to rename it and have a grand opening."

"What's he going to call it?"

"Taylor's. Original, huh?" Eric looked outside. "It's getting dark. I'll walk you to your car."

"I don't have a car. I'm just going to walk home to the parsonage. It's less than a mile from here."

"Then I'll walk with you."

"That's okay," she insisted. "I know you have to clean up. I'll be fine. It's not like this is Houston."

"My mother would kill me if she knew I let a girl walk a mile alone in the dark."

[*]

Eric had his hands buried deep in the pockets of his khakis as they walked down the sidewalk toward the parsonage. He'd been in khakis every day this week, two tan, one navy blue.

"How come you never wear jeans?" Tami asked.

"You pay attention to what I wear?"

"It's just out of the ordinary. Wearing khakis all the time."

"Why?" he asked. "Do I look like a dork?"

"No. You look fine. It's just…like I said. Out of the ordinary. Most guys wear jeans."

"My dad says jeans are inappropriate for being serious about pursuing an education."

"Your dad sounds kind of…." Tami didn't even know what word to use.

"Tell me about it," he muttered.

"That thing he said about you getting a full football scholarship on a _top ten_ team. Do you think – "

"- No, I don't. I mean, I think I'll get a scholarship _somewhere_ , but not to one of these football programs my dad expects. My dad thinks I'm going to make it all the way to the NFL one day, but he's dreaming. I just want to play some college ball, learn all I can about the game, and then become a coach. JV to start, then varsity, and eventually the college level."

"I have _no idea_ what I want to do," Tami told him. "And I kind of wrecked my GPA my sophomore year, so that might limit my choice of colleges."

"Really? I saw your name on last year's honor roll in the hall."

"Well, I've been making up for it as best I can." She peered at him. "You read the honor roll? What for?"

"So I know who I'm allowed to date."

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"I'm only allowed to date girls on the honor roll."

"You're joking."

"I can't _wait_ to get out of my father's house," he muttered.

She smirked. "Why, so you can finally date Anita Nisbeth?"

He laughed. "You mean she's not on the honor roll?"

"I take it you didn't make it to the N's?"

"Bell rang."

"Then maybe you didn't notice that my friend Kimberly Parker is on the honor roll. She's smart, nice, athletic. She's the best server on our team."

"What are you, her matchmaker?"

"You don't think she's cute?" Tami asked.

"Sure. But I'm not looking for a date right now."

"Then why were you reading the honor roll?"

He shrugged. "Future reference. For when I get over this thing I'm getting over."

"Best way to get over an old love is a new love."

"Don't think I could trust anyone right now," Eric said.

"She hurt you pretty bad, huh?"

He nodded.

She slowed to a stop in front of the parsonage. "Well, this is me."

He looked up and down the brick façade of the two-story, town-house like structure. "That's cool. How old is it?"

"A hundred years. It's one of the town's original structures. We don't own it. The church does."

His eyes scanned the windows. "Looks dark inside."

"My sister and mom are at a friend's house for dinner tonight. My dad's still at the church."

"What does your dad do there," he asked, "working until after 7?"

"Counseling, usually."

"Like…spiritual counseling?" Eric asked.

"Well, he'll counsel anyone about anything, really. He has a bachelor's in psychology."

"You can be a preacher with that?"

"He also has a Master's of Divinity," Tami answered.

"Oh." Eric looked down at the sidewalk. "You're easy to talk to."

She chuckled. "I didn't even know you _could_ talk before tonight." She unlocked the door, pushed it open, and flicked on the light in the foyer.

Eric nodded to her, almost a bow. "You have a good evening." He turned on his heels and walked back down the street.


	8. Homecoming

"You get along with everyone, don't you?" Tami asked Mo over the school lunch table.

"Pretty much," he said. "Why?"

"How about with Eric Taylor?"

Mo dipped a fry in ketchup. "He's kind of a dick."

Tami frowned. Mo didn't use to swear around her. Maybe he swore around the guys, but he never used to swear around _her_. She'd always taken that as a sign of respect.

"Sorry," he said when he saw her expression. "I mean, he's not exactly friendly."

"Maybe he's just reserved." She slid her lunch tray aside. She hated pizza day. It was like cardboard with ketchup. She should have remembered to pack her lunch. "Is there some kind of tension between you two?"

"He stole my position, Tami."

"He didn't _steal_ it," she said. "I mean, that wasn't his decision to make. It was Coach's"

Mo shoved his tray aside. "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not. I don't think he _needs_ defending. What did he do wrong?"

"He thinks he's hot shit." Mo saw her face and took her hand. "Stuff. Sorry. Hot stuff."

"Does he brag or something?"

"No, not exactly," Mo admitted, "but you can see it in the way he carries himself. He's arrogant."

"Really? I don't get that impression."

"How would you know?" Mo asked. "When do you ever see him?"

At this point Tami did not think it would be wise to mention that Eric had walked her home from Bo's Coffe & Bakery or how much they had talked. "He's in my Government class."

"Well he's in my P.E. class and my Enlgish class. And he's on the team with me. So I think I would know better than you."

"But don't you think it's a good idea for y'all to try to get along?" she asked. "Overcome any hard feelings you might have for him? You know, for the sake of the team?"

"I get along with him fine. What have I ever done to Eric Taylor?"

"There's no tension on the team?"

"What is this?" Mo asked, letting go of her hand. "Are you going into counselor mode again?"

"What are you talking about?" Tami asked.

"It's what you do. You get it from your dad. You go into counselor mode and think people have problems they don't have, and then you try to fix them."

"I do not!"

Mo made a gesture with his hand to indicate that she should lower her voice. He looked around. A couple farther down the table that was looking at them looked away. "Yeah, Tami," he half whispered, "you do. And it's kind of annoying. But it's no big deal, so let's just drop it."

Tami didn't _want_ to drop it. She wanted him to say he was sorry, that he was wrong, that she did _not_ "go into counselor mode," whatever that was. But he didn't. He stood up and grabbed his tray. "It's about that time. I'll walk you to 4th period."

[*]

Eric took his seat between Kimberley and Tami in Government. It was two minutes before the bell would ring. Tami watched Kimberley turn around and smile at him. "How was your weekend?" she asked.

"Ok."

"Good game on Friday," she said. "I guess you're QB1 now, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You going to the homecoming dance?"

"Uh…I don't know."

"So you haven't asked anyone yet?"

"No."

Kimberley smiled again. "Well, I'm just going with a group of single friends from the volleyball team." She nodded over his shoulder at Tami. "Not Tami. Some other girls. Tami has a steady boyfriend, right?"

Tami smiled. "I sure do. But you don't have one do you, Kimberley?"

"Not at the moment," she replied.

"I find that surprising," Tami said, "because you're so much fun to hang around."

"Aww, that's sweet." Kimberley's Texas drawl was a hair thicker than Tami's. "Thanks."

Eric busied himself with taking his notebook out of his backpack. Kimberley was still looking right at him when he was done with that. "So, if you _do_ end up going," she said. "Save me a dance?"

"Uh…Yeah. Okay."

The bell rang. Kimberley sat forward again.

[*]

Taylor's had its grand opening the Thursday before the Homecoming game and promised half price pints and half price bottles of wine from 9 PM Friday until 2 AM Saturday if the Tigers won. They did.

Friday night after the game, while the adults headed for the new bar, the teenagers headed to the homecoming dance.

"I'm sorry we fought the other day," Mo whispered to Tami when he took her out onto the dance floor for the first slow dance.

Tami was relieved he had finally apologized. "Let's put it behind us," she said. "Just enjoy tonight."

"There's no way I couldn't. You're so beautiful in that get-up." She was in a tight, dark red, shiny dress that fell just below her knees. It wasn't _too_ low cut - her parents would never have allowed that - but it did reveal a small hint of cleavage.

Tami settled her head contentedly against Mo's shoulder and smiled. When they were done with the dance, she saw Eric Taylor step through the gymnasium door with Father Jack by his side.

Father Jack was the team-appointed nickname of Joaquin Hernandez, wide receiver, #23, a devout Catholic virgin in a town with very few Catholics and very few virgins. He never got drunk, swore, smoked, or even watched R-rated movies, and he'd vowed he wouldn't have sex before he got married to a good Catholic girl. Some of the team had been suspicious of him at first for his moral conservatism, but when they saw how fast he could run, and how high he could jump, and how loyal he could be, they stopped worrying. He was a sinewy, well-poised, dark-eyed boy with a dazzling smile.

The two teammates looked about the decorated gym, their eyes roving from the girls who were standing and talking in the corner, to the dancers, to the refreshment table. The pair sent up quite the stir when they walked in. Tami could hear the whispers of dozens of girls float like a cloud upon the music, and their admiring gazes seemed to penetrate the very air on the dance floor.

Father Jack wore a gray suit while Eric's was solid black, and the new QB1 looked sharp and handsome. The two teammates walked casually along the periphery of the dance floor, chatted with some other teammates, and drank some punch.

Eric had just nodded in Tami's direction when Kimberly Parker approached him. They spoke for a moment, and he took her to the dance floor. Tami giggled when she saw the way Eric danced with her. "He sure knows how to leave enough room for the Holy Spirit, doesn't he?" she asked Mo.

Mo laughed, took her hand and led her back onto the floor. "Yeah, but _I_ want to be close to you, gorgeous." They danced cheek to cheek. Tami loved the smell of his cologne.

The moment that dance was done, Eric was approached by another girl, and he muttered his acceptance.

Tami, however, headed to the snack table to corner Kimberley. "Enjoy your dance with Eric?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"I thought he was deep and brooding," she said. "But now I'm beginning to think he's just socially awkward." She smiled. "Of course, it's kind of cute." She stepped a little closer to Tami. "Do you think he likes me?"

"My lady?" came Father Jack's voice from behind them. They turned, and Father Jack made a mock bow in Kimberley's direction, rolling his hand, which made both girls giggle. "May I have this dance?"

"I thought you only danced with Catholic girls," Kimberly replied.

"Don't worry. I'll convert you before the dance is over." He winked at her.

Kimberly laughed and took his hand.

When it seemed apparent that Eric was not going to be able to turn down a dance even if he wanted to, the girls started lining up for him. But when he saw Anita Nisbeth, like a cat on the prowl, coming his way, he slipped out the gym door and never returned.

Later in the night, while Mo was scooping Tami some punch, Father Jack stopped by the table and asked him, "Where's Taylor?"

Mo answered, "He put in his forty minute appearance and took off, just like he did at the party last Thursday night."

"What party?" Tami asked.

"Ah, honey," Mo told her, "I didn't ask you to come with me because I knew it was one your dad wouldn't let you go to. It was lame anyway. You didn't miss anything."

"I don't know what Eric's got against a good time," Father Jack said, "but, hey, he led us to victory tonight, didn't he?" He raised his cup of punch in honor of Eric.

"I threw a touchdown pass in the third quarter," Mo reminded him.

Father Jack flashed his bright white smile. "When Coach was resting Taylor, you mean?"

Mo's nostrils flared slightly. Tami was afraid he was going to get peevish, but instead Mo grinned, raised his cup, and said, "To Eric Taylor! To the absentee quarterback!" He and Father Jack clicked cups, and then Mo put his arm around Tami and said, "Look at my Queen! Isn't she beautiful?"

It was a magical night for Tami, and not just because she had been on the Homecoming Court. She and Mo didn't bicker the entire evening. He walked about proudly with her on his arm, twirled her across the dance floor, whispered sweet nothings in her ear as they slow danced, and made a delightfully entertaining fool of himself during the fast dances. Tami felt that tonight, she just might fall in love with Mo McArnold all over again.


	9. A Challenge

On Saturday evening, at the dinner table, the Reverend read aloud from the town newspaper a review of Taylor's: " _The Drunken Kickoff is no more, and good riddance!_ "

"I'll say," Tami's mother mumbled as she refilled the Reverend's empty glass with ice tea.

" _Taylor's is the newest iteration in sports bars_ – "

"- What's an iteration?" Shelley asked.

"A somewhat poor word choice," the Reverend answered, and continued, " _a family-friendly joint by day_ ,"

"Family friendly?" Tami's mother asked. "How can a bar be family friendly?"

"Maybe they have children's menus," Shelly suggested. "And root beer pong."

" _A family-friendly joint by day_ ," the Reverend repeated, " _and the best night-life in town after ten, when the over-21-only signs go up. With affordable drink prices and better than average pub food, state-of-the art pool tables_ \- "

Tami laughed. "State-of-the-art pool tables?"

"That's what it says," the Reverend told her.

Shelley reached for the bread basket. "And I bet the dart boards are cutting edge."

The Reverend continued reading: " _The owner, John Taylor, entrepreneur and father of the Tigers' newest starting quarterback Eric Taylor_ – "

"- The Tigers' _totally hot_ starting quarterback," Shelley interrupted.

"Don't be shallow, sweetheart," her mother told her. "And that boy is much too old for you be thinking about. In fact, at fourteen, you shouldn't be thinking about _any_ boys."

"… _has taken great pains_ ," the Reverend continued, " _to attend to every detail of the establishment, from sparkling clean restrooms to a free ride home for patrons who have imbibed a bit too much._ "

"Oh lovely," said Tami's mother.

The Reverend folded the newspaper and set it on the corner of the table. "Well it is better than letting them drive home drunk, Linda."

"Or maybe it's just an _excuse_ for letting them drink when he _should_ be cutting them off. I wonder how many nips John Taylor steals throughout the day."

"As a matter of fact, the owner doesn't drink any alcohol at all," the Reverend said. "The bartender told me as much when I popped in for a beer this afternoon."

"When you did _what_?" Tami's mother exclaimed.

"A man is entitled to his occasional pint, dearest."

Mrs. Hayes shook her head. "I hope none of your parishioners saw you in there."

The Reverend casually buttered a roll. "At least two of them did. I know, because they each bought me a second and third pint."

"Oh, Good Lord, Edward. No wonder you were in such a good mood when you walked in the door. I hope you made use of the free ride."

"I did." He looked at Shelley and winked, "Chauffeured by the totally hot quarterback himself."

Shelley's eyes widened with envy.

Mrs. Hayes shook her head. "He does not have that poor boy taxing around drunk patrons, does he?"

"Not at night," the Reverend replied. "Eric only works there on Saturday from one to seven."

"Poor boy," Mrs. Hayes repeated, leveling her eyes scoldingly at the Reverend. "Saturday afternoon drunks are the worst."

"Why would Mr. Taylor run a bar if he doesn't drink?" Shelley asked.

"To make money," the Reverend told her.

Shelley began to dish herself another serving of chicken and dumplings. "He's probably an alcoholic."

"Shelley!" her father scolded.

"I mean a _recovering_ alcoholic. Those are the only people who don't drink, besides religious nuts."

The Reverend put down the butter knife. "I assure you that's not true. Your mother is not a recovering alcoholic, and she doesn't drink."

Shelley opened her mouth, and Tami could predict what she was about to say - that their mother, though not an alcoholic, was a religious nut. So before those words could spill carelessly out of her little sister's mouth, Tami interjected, "Who wants sweet potato pie?"

[*]

The next week at school, while Tami was concentrating on her make-up in the girls' bathroom, the cheerleaders were, as usual, chattering.

"I can't believe Eric left the homecoming dance so early," Marie said as she powdered her nose and peered in the mirror.

"I know," Cindy said. "How lame. How can the _quarterback_ not stay at the homecoming dance?"

"He's an enigma," Sue Beth said.

"A what?" Cindy asked.

"It's an S.A.T. word," Sue Beth told her. "Aren't you studying for yours?"

"I think he's gay," Anita announced.

"As if!" Marie exclaimed. "Ray said Eric totally had a steady girlfriend in Houston."

"Queer as a football bat," Anita insisted.

"It doesn't make a guy gay just because he turns _you_ down," Sue Beth told her.

Anita leaned back against one of the sinks. "He came to the dance with Father Jack."

"Father Jack is _not_ gay," Sue Beth told her. "He's just…sweet. And religious. And a _gentleman_."

"And not ever going out with you or any other non-Catholic girl," Anita said. "So quit dreaming."

"At least I don't call him gay just because he won't go out with me."

"I'm telling you," Anita replied, "Eric is always looking at the other guys during practice. Watching them. He's totally gay."

Tami felt the need to defend Eric. "He wants to be a coach one day. He's probably just paying close attention so he can learn."

"How do _you_ know he wants to be a coach?" Anita asked.

"He told me. We talked quite a bit."

Anita's brownish-green eyes sparked with jealousy.

"I didn't know he ever talked," Marie said.

"Oh…well I guess Tami must be _special_." Anita zipped up her backpack with one long woosh. "If Eric Taylor is talking to her."

"Cut it out," Sue Beth told her. "Tami has a guy. She's not trying to move in on your tenuous claim on Eric."

"Tenuous?" Anita asked. "Is that another S.A.T. word?"

"Maybe," Sue Beth said.

Anita shot Tami a look, almost, of challenge. "I wonder if Mo knows you've been talking to Eric behind his back."

"I had a _conversation_ with him," Tami said. "It's not as if I offered him the best blow job of his life."

Tami had to admit, the chorus of giggles from the other three cheerleaders made her feel just a little smug. But then Anita said something that drained all the color from Tami's face:

"You haven't even given _Mo_ the best blow job of his life."

 **[*]**

"Has Anita Nisbeth ever come on to you?" Tami asked Mo as he drove her home from their Thursday dinner date at the Tasty 44 Diner.

"No. Why would she? She knows I'm going with you."

"What do you think of her?"

"I don't know. She's okay I guess." Mo took her hand on the bucket seat and held it.

"She's kind of a slut, though, isn't she?" Tami asked.

He shot her a scolding look. "Really, Tami? Calling some girl a _slut?_ That's not like you."

"Well, but, she kind of is. I mean…half the team, Mo."

"That's a complete exaggeration."

"She offered Eric Taylor the best blow job of his life."

"Is that what he said?" Mo asked. "He's full of himself. He just thinks every girl wants him. He probably thinks _you_ want him."

"No, _Anita_ said that." When Mo just rolled his eyes, she asked, "Why do you linger after practice so long?" The cheerleaders often practiced in the gym around the same time. "Does Anita flirt with you after?"

He let go of her hand and put his back on the wheel. "What _is_ this? The Spanish Inquisition? When did you become so jealous? You're friendly to _everyone_ , and do I accuse _you_ of flirting?"

"No," she admitted.

"Hey," he said softly, and reached over, put an arm around her, and pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of it. "You're my number one, you know."

"I'm sorry," Tami said, and closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his arm around her.

What had she been thinking? She couldn't let Anita Nisbeth get to her. Anita was just messing with her mind because she was jealous that Eric had talked to her.

There was no chance Mo would ever cheat, and with a girl like that! Mo went to church every Sunday. He checked in on his grandparents. He got good grades. He had dated Tami for months before he even _asked_ for sex. He was a good guy.

He was _her_ guy.


	10. Red Light

Perhaps they were too heady from their homecoming victory, but the Rankin High Tigers lost the next football game. Tami won her Saturday morning volleyball game, however, a rare victory against a team her high school lost to most years. Mo took her out for a victory lunch at Fatty's Barbecue afterward, but the celebration was somewhat dampened by his grumbling about Friday's game. He kept saying that the Tigers were robbed by two of the ref's calls and that if only coach had put _him_ in to play more instead of Eric...

"We're supposed to be talking about _my_ game, not _your_ game," she said.

"Sorry, honey." From across the bright orange booth, he put a hand on her lower arm. "You played great. I'm proud of you. The way you spiked that ball? They're lucky to have you on that team."

Tami smiled.

"More brisket?" Mo asked.

Fatty's was all-you-can-eat. Tami never ate her money's worth, but Mo ate enough for both of them. She didn't know where he put it. He was as lean as could be. Deliciously lean. Her boyfriend was pretty good-looking, if she did say so herself.

"No, but get me some more fired okra, handsome," she told him as she pushed her plate his way. "And some sweet tea." She smiled. "And maybe I'll give you some sugar after you bring me all that sugar."

[*]

"Refill?" Eric asked, grabbing Tami's empty ceramic mug.

"Yes, please." When he returned the mug, she asked, "You're in Trig, right?" He nodded. "Think you could help me with this Algebra II problem?"

He looked around the shop. There were only two other patrons, who were engrossed in conversation with one another. "I'll try." He pulled a chair up next to her and talked her through it step by step, and she thanked him.

As he was putting the chair back on the other side of the table, she asked, "Where did you learn to dance?"

"Uh…nowhere. Why?"

She smiled. "It shows. Or were you just afraid to touch Kimberley too closely at the homecoming dance?"

"I didn't want to give her the wrong impression. I'm not really looking for a girlfriend right now."

"Okay, fine. Suit yourself. But you're missing out. Kimberley's a great girl." She returned to her studies, doing twice as many problems as had been assigned, just to make sure she understood the material. Later, she heard Eric putting up the chairs and began packing up her stuff.

Once again, he offered to walk her home. As they strolled silently side by side, Tami looked in the lighted windows of the closed shops. She paused for a moment in front of a pair of brown leather cowgirl boots, which were on display in the center of a lasso. "Wish I could afford _those_ ," she said. "Mine aren't nearly as nice."

Eric looked down at her feet. "They look functional to me."

"A girl wants to look _pretty_ , not functional!"

He shook his head. "You don't need those boots to look pretty."

She smiled at the compliment, but she didn't get the impression he was flirting with her. He had said it so matter-of-factly. "Do you have cowboy boots?"

"No. But I have hiking boots. I have work boots, too."

"Eric, trust me, in this town, you've got to get yourself a pair of cowboy boots. Don't wear a cowboy hat though. That'll just make you look like a douche."

"Doesn't Mo wear a cowboy hat sometimes?"

"Yeah," she said, "and it makes him look like a douche."

He laughed. Tami was still a little surprised by how transformative his laugh was. It flashed across his face the promise of a more relaxed and playful person.

"That's okay, though," she said. "Mo hates it when I wear my sequined jean jacket. He thinks it's too sparkly. But a good relationship requires mutual tolerance." After a little more walking in silence, she said, "I saw you running out of the homecoming dance when Anita came your way."

"I didn't _run_."

"You walked quickly. Does she scare you?"

"She's pretty aggressive," he said. "But she;s left me alone since the dance."

More silence. Tami broke it again. "Is your older sister coming home for Thanksgiving?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so. She got engaged recently, and I think she's going to his parents' place."

"Do you like him?"

"I've only met him twice. He seems okay. She says he treats her really well, which is all that matters to me. But she hasn't come home much since she left for college, and now that she's graduated and working, she comes home even less."

"Don't you miss her?"

"Yeah, but I've visited her in Dallas a few times."

"I've never been to Dallas. Is it exciting?"

"Not unless a lot of concrete turns you on." He smiled. "They do have some nice art museums. And a decent zoo. And you can look up at the window Lee Harvey Oswald shot JFK out of."

"That's morbid. Why would anyone want to do that?"

"Lots of people want to do it. They're talking about maybe turning the 6th floor into a museum."

"It must be cool to have a big sister you can visit," she said "who has her own place and everything. Are y'all close?"

"We're five years apart, and I'm a guy, so it's not like we painted each other's nails." His lips twitched. "Okay…once. _Once_ I let her paint my nails. When I was five."

Tami chuckled.

"Since Kathleen left, we've talked on the phone a lot. I think I talked to her more _after_ she moved out than I did when she was living at home. She gave me a lot of advice about girls when I was in 8th grade. I used to be really socially awkward."

"Used to be?" Tami asked.

He frowned. "What's that mean?"

"I'm just teasing you. Did it help? Her advice?"

"Well, I got a girlfriend."

"Yeah? How _many_ did you get?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"I went on a few dates with a few different girls my freshman year, but I didn't really hit it off with anyone until Lisa. We dated all of my sophomore and junior year. My dad tried to talk me out of it. Said a girlfriend was a distraction at that age, and I should be focused on school and football." He shrugged. "Maybe I should have taken his advice. Would have saved me a lot of time and money, since she was just going to dump me eventually anyway."

"Oh, come on. You wouldn't throw away your good times together just to avoid the pain, would you?"

"You don't know what it's like." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And how do you get me to talk so much?" He sounded almost offended, like he thought she'd tricked him somehow.

"You know, it would probably help you to get over her if you would just start dating again. Why don't you ask Kimberley out?"

"Do you work on commission or something?"

"I'm just trying to help you out."

"Look, I don't even have _time_ to date. Monday through Thursday, it's wake up early, run routes with my dad, go to school, go to practice, work at the coffee shop, eat, study, then crash into bed. On Friday, it's wake up early, run routes, go to school, and then go to the game. On Saturday it's wake up early, run routes, study game tape, do my chores - you should _see_ the list of chores my dad gives me – and play taxi boy at the bar until seven. On Sunday, it's wake up early, run routes, go to church, watch the games – _study_ the games, and then _more_ chores."

"What about Friday night after the game? Saturday after seven?"

He just looked at her.

She sighed. "Do you think I go into counselor mode?"

"What's counselor mode?"

"I don't know. Apparently it's something I do that annoys Mo. I thought maybe I was going into it now, and that's why I just annoyed you."

"You didn't annoy me. Having too many responsibilities annoys me. Having a dad who won't cut me any slack annoys me. And Lisa dumping me _really_ annoyed me. But you're just…you're trying to be helpful. I'm sorry if I came off like Oscar."

"Oscar?"

"The Grouch."

She smiled. "You do kind of remind me of Oscar the Grouch."

"My house is way nicer than a trash can, though. My dad makes sure of that at least. Nothing is ever a mess, and nothing is ever in disrepair."

They slowed to a stop in front of her house. A light was on in the living room window, and in the kitchen. "Say hello to the Reverend for me," Eric told her.

"I heard you taxied him home from the bar the Saturday after Homecoming."

Eric seemed to be trying to keep his lips in a straight line, but they didn't quite stay put. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

"It's okay. I heard it from _him_." She tried the door. It was unlocked.

Eric nodded, the way he had the first time he walked her home, that almost-a-bow nod, and then he was on his way.

[*]

Another week came and went. The Tigers barely eked out a victory in Friday's football game. Mo played only in the third quarter, and he didn't throw a single touchdown pass. He was sullen when he and Tami went out for dinner afterward, not his usual happily energetic self after a team victory.

"Y'all won," Tami told him from across the booth at Tasty 44. "Smile!"

"How are the scouts ever going to see me if Coach hardly ever _plays_ me? And he only puts me in when it's impossible to score! If Eric had just never - "

"- Cheer up, handsome. You're on a winning team that might even make it to State this season. You're graduating this year. And you're about to get laid in an hour." Watching a close game like that made her horny. She didn't know why. Maybe it was the way the tension mounted slowly. " _Seriously_ laid."

His frown morphed into a smile. "I do get laid a lot more often than Taylor," he said. "And I've got a hot girlfriend. He doesn't even _have_ a girlfriend."

Tami sighed. "You are not in competition with Eric, Mo. He's your _teammate_."

Mo's grin grew a little bigger. "Did you hear how I beat him at Red Light, Green Light?"

"You mean that game kids play in kindergarten?"

"Coach Wylie makes us play it in in P.E.. Yesterday, I was the first one across the finish line. Worlds ahead of Taylor. That guy can't run _nearly_ as fast as me."

Suddenly, Tami was feeling a lot less horny.


	11. Jealousy

On Monday, Tami was surprised to find Mo waiting for her at the bottom of the steps of the church when she got off work at 4:45 PM. He offered to walk her home.

"Where's your car?" she asked.

Mo draped an arm around her waist and slid his hand into the back pocket of her jeans. "28 dropped me off." Number 28 was Tony Sullivan, a seventeen-year-old sophomore and enormous linebacker who had repeated both 8th and 9th grade. In a year, when the Texas legislature passed the "No Pass No Play" rule, Tony would be booted from the team for failing to maintain a 70% average, but at the moment, he was the best defensive player they had.

Walking with Mo was a very different experience from being walked home by Eric. Tami could feel the pressure of Mo's hand against her bottom, sense the warmth of his hip against her hip, and smell the mildly sweet scent of his cologne. (Did Eric even wear cologne? Tami wondered. If he did, she hadn't noticed.) Tami loved how affectionate Mo was and how he never seemed ashamed to show his appreciation for her in public. Mo also never let the conversation lag. He had a high energy, and talking to him was a bit like a ping pong match, with the dialogue constantly snapping back and forth. The ball never hit the ground, and there was something at once exhilarating and draining about that.

"It's nice of you to walk me home," she said when there was a rare pause in the conversation.

"Well, I did it because I wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a Debbie Downer Friday night. I guess maybe I'm just a little jealous of Eric."

"I've been getting that vibe."

"Football just comes so easily to him, you know? He doesn't have to work at it the way I do."

Tami was pretty sure Eric worked at it more than Mo did – running routes every single morning with his dad, studying game tape on the weekends - but she didn't think it wise to say so.

"And I know he's probably going to get a full scholarship someplace," Mo continued, "and I'll be lucky if I get fifty percent. And it just doesn't seem fair. God knows I need the money more than he does. His dad owns a _bar_. How sweet is that?"

"I don't think his dad is particularly wealthy, though. I'd guess a lot of money is tied up in his business." If Mr. Taylor _was_ wealthy, he sure didn't flash money around or buy his son expensive toys. Eric drove a used pick-up and his clothes were…what had he said about her cowgirl boots? _Functional_.

"I'd love to own a bar one day," Mo said, "or maybe a stadium."

"A stadium?" Tami asked with a laugh. "That's pretty ambitious. What, are you going to become some kind of real estate mogul?"

"Hey, anything can happen, honey babe." That was another thing Tami loved about Mo - he had this eternal sense of optimism about him. They were nearing the coffee shop now, and he said, "I haven't been to this place since last winter. Want to pop in and get some hot chocolate?"

"Nah, I'm not in the mood." She didn't think it was a good idea to throw Eric and Mo together right now, especially when he'd just been talking about his jealousy. It could be awkward. She moved so quickly by the door that Mo's hand came out of her back pocket, and he hustled to catch up with her, but not before glancing inside. This time he slung his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, I saw Eric in there."

"Yeah," she said, "he works there from 4:30 to close and then cleans up."

"Oh, you know his _exact_ hours, do you?"

"Yeah," she replied, puzzled by the accusation in his voice. "He told me."

"So you mean Anita was right when she told me Eric's been chatting you up behind my back?"

"He's not _chatting me up_. We had a couple of conversations."

"What are you doing talking so much to Eric Taylor?"

"What are you doing talking so much to Anita Nisbeth?" she shot back.

He frowned and looked away. When he looked back, he was happy Mo again. He wiggled his eyebrow at her. "You're kind of cute when you're jealous, Tami, baby. Come on." He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. "We're being idiots. Let's not be idiots."

Tami smiled. He was right. She was as big a fool to think Mo might be flirting with Anita as Mo was to think Eric might be flirting with her.

[*]

The Tigers won again on Friday, this time by a wider margin. Tami hadn't been to the coffee shop in a while, so she stopped in the following Wednesday evening. As Eric rung up her coffee order, she congratulated him on Friday's game.

"You too," he said. "I mean, on your volleyball game Saturday morning. I heard y'all won again."

She handed him a five dollar bill. "Yeah. Barely. And to a team that sucks."

The cash register dinged. "Hey, don't knock it. A win is a win." He was holding her change, but he didn't hand it to her. "Think you'll play in college?"

She laughed. "No. I'm not nearly that good."

"Kimberley said you were one of the better players."

Oh? Was he talking to Kimberley now? Maybe her matchmaking magic would ever so slowly work after all. "Yeah, but the team isn't very good, so that's not saying much. We only won three games last year. We're hoping for four this year."

He finally handed her the change, and she thanked him. As soon as she sat down at a table, Tami became engrossed in _Pride and Prejudice_ , which her English teacher had assigned the class. A half hour later, Eric interrupted her. "Want a refill?" he asked as he picked up her cup. She nodded, and her eyes fell back to the book.

A couple minutes later, he set the cup down without saying anything. Before he could turn back toward the counter, she said, "You kind of remind me of Mr. Darcy."

"Of who?"

She held up the book. "Didn't your class get assigned this?"

"Ah. Yeah. I haven't started it yet. I'm just gonna read the Master Plot summary."

"Don't you have to write a paper on it?" she asked.

"Yeah, but as long as I know the plot, I can just b.s. it. I use impressive vocabulary. I always get at least a B+."

"Maybe you're more like Wickham then."

"Who?" he asked.

"Never mind." She smiled and went back to reading the book.

It was 6:52 PM when she heard him putting up the chairs. She finished up the last two pages of the book and shoved it in her backpack. "Does the owner know you close up eight minutes early?" she asked as she stood.

"You're the only one who's ever here after 6:40."

She began walking toward the door, but slowly, because she knew he was going to offer to walk her home. He did, and, after locking the door behind them, he strolled quietly beside her. The air was muggy. It had rained earlier, and it was 70-degrees. They were having one of those fluky Texas weather weeks: 50 one day, 70 the next. Sunshine then rain.

Tami inhaled. Mo's cologne had made her wonder what Eric smelled like. She got the scent of the afternoon rain first, which was still drying on the sidewalk, and then something like Ivory soap. Eric didn't smell special. He just smelled _clean_.

As they walked, Tami decided to play a game. She wasn't going to say a word, and she was going to count how many seconds it took _him_ to start a conversation. When she had counted silently to 280, she tired of the game and asked, "What did you do Saturday night? Anything fun?"

"Mark Garrity's party."

"Really? I didn't see you there."

"I was in the rec room the whole time."

Tami had not set foot in the rec room, because that's where the kegs were. Her father had only given her permission to go to the party because he hadn't expected there to be alcohol. The Garritys went to their church, and the Reverend trusted Mark's father. What he didn't know – because Tami also didn't know - was that Mr. and Mrs. Garrity were out of town that weekend for a romantic getaway, and Mark's older cousin Buddy had been called in to "supervise" him while they were gone.

Buddy Garrity was twenty-two and lived two towns over in Dillon. He'd helped lead Dillon High's Panthers to a State Championship his senior year. He was now a car salesman, and though he was engaged to be married, he apparently missed his high school party days, and so he had graciously supplied his cousin with two kegs of beer. Tami told her father all this when she got home, swore she didn't know there would be so much alcohol, and promised him she hadn't touched it herself. Her father thanked her for her honesty and went back to editing his sermon.

"So you like to stay close to the beer?" she asked.

"Nah. I don't usually have more than one. But that Buddy Garrity guy, he kept egging me on and on to get into this drinking game, so eventually I just gave in. Huge mistake. I got really drunk really fast, and Father Jack drove me home. I saw you when we were leaving, but you were sucking face with Mo, so…I didn't stop to say hi."

"Are you and Jack good friends?"

Eric shrugged. "I like him. We hang out sometimes."

"How did your parents react when you came home drunk?"

"My mom was asleep, and my dad was fortunately at Taylor's, working on the books."

Tami was having a hard time imagining him drunk. "So, what? You just went straight to bed and slept it off?"

"Not exactly. I uh….I did a little drunk dialing."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I called my ex."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah. Told her I missed her and that I still think about her a lot. And when she didn't answer right away…" He covered his face with his hand and spoke through it, "I yelled at her."

"What did you say?"

He dropped his hand. "I don't even remember, but I said it loud enough that I woke up my mother."

"Uh oh. What did your mother do?"

"She gave me milk and cookies and sent me to bed."

Tami threw back her head and laughed. "What did she _really_ do?"

"That's what's she really did. She told me it would help with the hangover to have some food and hydration, and that I better go straight to bed and try to look presentable for my father in the morning."

"Wow. If I came home to the parsonage totally drunk, my mom would have been wailing and heaping ashes on her head."

Eric chuckled.

Tami slowed to a stop before the parsonage. "Well, this is me."

Eric nodded, the almost-bow that was growing familiar to her, and waited for her to open the door.

 **[*]**

The Tigers, under Eric's leadership, were having an impressive season. They won their next football game yet again, but Tami lost her volleyball game the next morning. On Sunday, as usual, she stood at the door to the church with her father. The Taylors had returned for a second visit.

"Glad to have you give us another chance," Reverend Hayes said as he shook Mr. Taylor's hand.

"The sermon at First Baptist was too emotional," Mr. Taylor said, "and that Church of Christ didn't even have a choir or any musical instruments at all. The non-denominational church didn't have pews. We had to sit on folding chairs."

"What he means, Reverend," Eric's mother said pleasantly, "is that we appreciated your sermon the first time we were here. It was very insightful, and it drew us back."

Tami's father smiled. He loved to hear his sermons complimented, and it didn't happen often.

"Did you see Eric in the game on Friday, Reverend?" Mr. Taylor asked. "He did that trick play just the way we reviewed it."

Tami knew her father had not been at the game, and that was why he said, merely, "Congratulations, Eric."

"Thank you, sir," Eric replied. "Reverend. Sir."

"Well, I wouldn't _congratulate_ him just yet," Mr. Taylor insisted. "They've had one loss _already_ this season." He patted his son's shoulder. "If Eric would just put in a little more effort, then he could take this team all the way to State. If he would just spend a little less time hanging out with the guys. Right, son?"

"Well, darling, you know," Mrs. Taylor said, "how important it to build comradery on a team. And Eric really doesn't go out very often."

"He needs to learn to prioritize, Janet. Eric should be building a successful game plan to take this team all the way to State. Shouldn't you, son?"

"I'll try," Eric said.

Mr. Taylor sighed. "Eric, if I hear you use the word _try_ one more time…"

Mrs. Taylor tugged on her husband's hand, and he grudgingly followed her out the door. Eric turned to follow them, but Reverend Hayes called his name. He paused and faced the pastor.

The Reverend looked him in the eye and said, "Young man, don't listen to that. Character is in the trying."


	12. Bluntness

Reverend Hayes looked over the flyer advertising the clothing closet. "Looks good to me," he said, and handed it back to Tami over his desk. "Only next time, show me _before_ you run the copies?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Take them on over to Mrs. Tidwell. I think she's in the fellowship hall right now."

The sound of voices drifted from the fellowship hall as Tami neared it, punctuated by a great big guffaw from Mrs. Tidwell, the Women's Ministry Coordinator. "Janet," she said, "I swear, you're going to give me a hernia from making me laugh so hard!"

Tami tiptoed in. Coats and other clothing seemed to have exploded all over the tables the church used for fellowship meals. Apparently they were sorting donations. Eric's mother was standing there, her face radiant with her smile, and chatting with Mrs. Tidwell. "Well, you know it's true," Mrs. Taylor said. "And you should have seen the expression on Principal Manner's face, too."

Both women turned and looked at Tami as she approached.

"I brought flyers," Tami said with a hesitant smile, feeling like she'd just stumbled on some kind of secret: Mrs. Taylor was funny? And outgoing? And she had friends in the church? Of course, Eric _had_ said she was "like a different person" when she wasn't around his father.

"Oh, thank you, Tami." Mrs. Tidwell took the flyers from her. "Janet, Tami is the Reverend's eldest daughter. Have you met?"

Mrs. Taylor flashed her a warm smile. "We've only met at the church door. Thank you for running the flyers, Tami. We're going to put them up at the Y and the unemployment office and wherever else we can get the word out."

"So you're the one who suggested the idea of the clothing closet?" Tami asked. The church already had a food pantry, but they were going to expand it to give our winter clothing as well.

Mrs. Taylor nodded. "We did something like it at our church in Houston. I'm just excited about helping others. I remember what it was like when I was out of high school and trying so desperately to make ends meet, before I met my husband. It meant so much just to have a warm coat."

Mrs. Taylor made it sound as if she had been on her own immediately after high school, but Tami couldn't imagine such a scenario, a teenage girl supporting herself in a time before women's liberation. "What did you do after high school?" she asked.

"Whatever I could. I worked lots of different jobs, but my most steady work was as a bar maid."

That could explain how she'd met Eric's father, if he was already in the bar business back then. Tami had guessed they weren't high school sweethearts, since Mr. Taylor did look to be a few years older than his wife.

"Want to help us sort, Tami?" Mrs. Tidwell asked.

Tami didn't think her father had anything else for her to do at the office, so she dug in to the task at hand. Mrs. Tidwell and Mrs. Taylor chattered excitedly to one another as they sorted, and at one point Mrs. Taylor held up a tiny, fleecy coat with the Dallas Cowboys logo. "Awww…." She said. "This is adorable. I remember when Eric was this size. He had the cutest giggle when Kathleen would make faces at him."

"They grow up so fast don't they?" Mrs. Tidewell asked.

"They do. I can't believe my baby is going off to college this summer. I'm going to be all alone."

"Well, not _all_ alone," Mrs. Tidwell said. "You'll have your husband."

Mrs. Taylor didn't reply. She looked at the coat again, her lips falling into a nostalgic pout, and added it to the kids' pile.

[*]

Chairs clunked one by one onto the tops of tables. Tami pretended not to hear and only looked up when Eric sat down across from her.

With her hand on the Chemistry book she'd just closed, she said, "Your father's kind of a jerk."

"I'm aware."

"He rides you hard."

"I'm _aware_."

"Why do you put up with it?"

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "If I push back, it just makes it worse."

"Why does your _mother_ put up with him? She seems nice enough. I just sorted clothes with her."

"Listen…my dad doesn't cheat on my mom. He doesn't beat her."

"There's a _lot_ more to being a good husband than just not cheating or beating."

"I know," he said. "I just don't want you to get the wrong impression. He's just hard to live with. He's not _evil_. I mean, if he ever hit my mother, you know, I wouldn't allow that. I'd…" he nodded to himself. "I'd throw him against the wall." He said it like maybe he _wanted_ his father to give him a justifiable reason to throw him against the wall. "And when it comes to his…the other stuff, my mom…I think she just…she doesn't want to make waves. It's easier that way."

"I'd be making a whole lot of waves," Tami said.

"I bet you would. I heard you made a lot of waves your sophomore year."

Tami's muscles tensed. "What did you hear?"

"Just that you rebelled for a while. Typical preacher's kid stuff. And _you_ told me about your grades."

Tami was relieved that he didn't seem to know anything about Boone. She didn't want _anyone_ knowing about Boone. "I made some mistakes. I regret them. I was trying to fit in with an older crowd. Trying to figure out who I was apart from the pastor's daughter."

"And did you figure it out?" he asked.

"I'm still working on it." She didn't want to talk about her rebellious year, so she grasped for a new subject. "Who do you think you'll take to senior prom?"

"What? That's like six months away."

"You're going, though, aren't you?"

"Sure," he said, "if I have a real girlfriend by then. But prom's a big deal. I don't want to go with someone I'm not serious about."

"Well, you're not _going_ to have a girlfriend by then if you don't ever ask anyone out. You keep ignoring the girls who try to flirt with you. Like, for instance - _Kimberley_."

"You and Kimberley." He shook his head. "What do you get out of it?"

"It's just…people find it a little odd that you aren't dating anyone yet."

"People, huh? Like people named Tami Hayes?"

"It's not just me," she told him.

"I'm just not there yet. If I went out with some girl at this point, I'd just be using her to get past Lisa."

"Well that's thoughtful, to consider that. But sometimes you make a good shot on the rebound. I did, with Mo." She was thinking about how Boone had broken her heart, and Mo had lifted it that Sunday with his _Amen_.

"Who were you dating before Mo?"

 _Crap_. What did she say now? She couldn't tell him about Boone. "No one, really."

"Then how were you rebounding?"

"Just from a bad crush," she said, and then, hastily, "Got your eye on anyone?"

He shrugged.

"What's your type?" Maybe she could figure out who to fix him up with if he wasn't interested in Kimberley.

"I want a cheerleader."

Tami was a bit disappointed by his response. She had thought him to be less cliché than that. "Well, Sue Beth is on the honor roll. She's pretty and not too catty. She – "

"- Not _that_ kind of cheerleader. I just mean…someone supportive. An encourager. Someone who will build me up."

"You mean a yes woman?" Tami asked.

"Nah. No. I need someone strong, who knows how to stand up for herself."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to end up like my dad, for one. How about you?" he asked. "What's your type?"

"Well…I'm dating Mo. So you can deduce from there, I guess."

"How's that going?" he asked. "You and Mo?"

"Great. Why?"

He looked out the glass door. "It's getting dark," he said. "I'll walk you home."

[*]

"Hold up, girls, I'm coming with you," the Reverend Hayes said, grabbing his black fall coat off the rack that stood in the foyer of their house.

Shelley and Tami looked at one another quizzically.

"To the game?" Shelley asked.

"Of course." He plucked his brown fedora down as well, and situated it on his head.

"To the _football_ game?" Tami asked.

"Yes, yes," he said, gesturing to the door. "Let's go."

Tami had been planning to borrow the family station wagon and take Shelley, as she usually did, but tonight her father drove, with Tami riding shotgun. Shelley was sulking in the backseat, Tami knew, because she wasn't going to be able to flirt shamelessly with that junior from the baseball team if their father was sitting with them in the stands.

"I know it's been an awesome season," Shelley grumbled, "and that we've only lost a single game, but I didn't expect even _you_ to catch Tiger fever."

[*]

A cool fall breeze drifted through the open door of the church. Mr. Taylor's hand slid into Reverend Hayes's, and they shook. "You should work some football metaphors into your sermons," Mr. Taylor told him. "All those historical and literary references don't really play in a small town like this."

" _I_ liked them," Mrs. Taylor said quietly. Tami wished she would say it loudly. She wished Mrs. Taylor would tell her husband that he was being an ass.

Reverend Hayes nodded to Eric. "Good game on Friday."

"You saw it?" Eric asked, as though he was pleased with the idea, as though he actually cared whether or not Tami's father saw him play.

"I did. You played impressively."

"Well," Mr. Taylor said, "until toward the end there, when he threw that interception. You really weren't concentrating there, were you, son?"

Eric's whole body tensed. "We won by 6," he said.

"You _could_ have won by 12. If you hadn't thrown that interception, the Owls never would have made that touchdown in the fourth quarter."

Eric's mother put a hand on the small of her husband's back. "Time to go, darling," she said, and they headed out the church door.

Eric was about to follow when the Reverend called his name. "Son," he told Eric when the boy paused, "the Bible says, whatsoever you do, work at it with all your heart, as if you working for the Lord, and not to please men. Your worth does not lie in the approval of men."

 **[*]**

"You really get engrossed in your studies," Eric said when the chairs were all up and he was seated across from Tami at the coffee shop.

Tami closed her book and drained the last sip of her coffee. "I don't understand how your mother can stand to live with your father."

"You're very blunt."

"Not usually."

"So it's just with me?" he asked.

"Okay, maybe I am blunt. Sorry."

"Listen, don't judge my mother. She's a good mother. She's always made sure I know she loves me."

"I wasn't judging her," Tami insisted.

"Yeah. You were. For being with him. And for not pushing back more."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure she has her reasons. You know, my parents got marriage counseling for a while. I think it really helped them. Maybe it could help your parents."

"My dad would never agree to anything like that. He would see it as a sign of weakness." Eric looked outside. "It's getting dark. I'll walk you home."

As he began walking her back to the parsonage, he asked, "You cold?"

Although it had been in the low 60s that afternoon, it had since dropped fifteen degrees. Her sweatshirt wasn't cutting it. "A little."

He took off his letter jacket and handed it to her.

"No. You just have a long sleeve shirt on," she said.

"I don't get cold," he insisted.

She slipped on the jacket.

A few steps later, he said, "My ex-girlfriend called me last night."

"Oh."

"It ended badly with that new guy."

"That was quick," Tami said.

"Yeah. And she said if we make it all the way to the finals game in College Station, which it looks like we might, she'll come see me play. That's less than a two hour drive from Houston."

"Oh. Does she want to get back together?"

"I think so. I got that impression."

"Do you?" Tami asked.

"If you had asked me that a week or so ago, I probably would have said yes. Now…I don't know." He rubbed his hands together and then slid them in the pockets of his khakis. They'd been in his jacket pockets before. "I was just starting to get over her, and then she pulls this! I mean, she just threw me over for that guy. Two years and she just…." He swallowed and looked out at the street. He always insisted on walking on the street side of sidewalk.

"That must have been hard," Tami said softly.

"It _was_ hard. And now she thinks she can just waltz back into my life. And honestly? I still miss her, but…I mean, what does that say, if I just take her back?"

"My dad always tells me, there's no weakness in forgiveness."

"Maybe," he muttered. "But I'm not sure I can trust her anymore, you know? And that's a big investment – phone calls, letters, weekend trips - if it just blows up again."

"Well, my dad also says that just because you forgive someone doesn't mean you have to reconcile with them. Forgiveness is just…you know…letting go of the anger. It's more for _you_ than for them. You could forgive her, and still not get back together with her."

"Your dad is a wise and thoughtful man."

"He is," Tami agreed, a little proudly.

Eric looked away, out across the street at a vacated shopfront on the other side. "I wish I had a father like that."


	13. Forward and Back

Eric continued not to ask anyone out. While the Tigers racked up victories in football, Tami's volleyball season was considerably less spectacular. The team was doing better than it had the year before Tami joined, but that wasn't saying much. At least they still had a chance to meet Tami's personal goal of winning four games.

Thanksgiving arrived, and with it a crowd of people spilled into the parsonage. Tami's aunt and uncle and cousins rolled in to town, and, as usual, Tami's parents took in a handful of strays who had nowhere else to go. With a pastor's wife for a mother, Tami had learned to entertain for groups large or small, with planning or on short notice. These skills would one day serve her well as a coach's wife, especially when Eric sprang team barbecues on her.

Tami's mother prepared a spectacular feast that day and had her daughters peeling potatoes, snapping peas, and rolling dough all morning. Some of the company retreated to the living room to watch football after diner, but Tami lingered at the dining room table, where her father and uncle, an English professor at Midland College, were discussing literature. After a few minutes, her mother entered from the kitchen and said, "Tami, what are you doing sitting here? Your sister is helping me clean up in the kitchen."

"Linda, Linda," the Reverend quipped, "you are busy with many things, but Tami has chosen the better part."

Tami's mother leveled her eyes at him. "Tami is not Mary, I am not Martha, and you, Edward, are most certainly not Jesus."

"Go help your mother," Tami's father told her.

"And you know," Mrs. Hayes said, "it wouldn't kill _you_ to pick up a dish rag once and a while either. I've been cooking _all_ day."

Tami followed her mother into the kitchen. Two minutes later, the Reverend entered, kissed the top of his wife's head, and said, "Thank you for cleaning up. Thank you for all of the work you do. You make this place a home. How can I help?"

Mrs. Hayes smiled, snapped him with the dish towel, and said, "Oh, just go back to the dining room and talk to your brother, you big brain."

[*]

Saturday. 10:45 AM. Tami readied herself for the serve. This was not her favorite part of volleyball. She was best as the striker. The game was tied, and this was the last game of their season. The football team was looking forward to the final game of the play-offs next weekend, which would determine whether or not they went to State. Tami's team wouldn't be going to playoffs like Mo's, but she at least wanted her volleyball sisters to end their season with a win.

She glanced once into the stands, which were sparsely populated. Mo was talking to some guy from the football team, who was dating one of her teammates. Tami's mother and father were, as usual, in the third row. Shelley was sitting four rows behind them next to some sophomore boy and chattering away, and Tami's mother kept glancing back at them. Everyone was a predictable regular, except for Eric Taylor and Father Jack. Tami wondered what they were doing in the stands today, and who had brought whom for company. Had Eric come to watch Kimberley, and was he _finally_ going to ask her out?

Tami pulled back her arm and listened to the satisfying smack of fist against ball. An exciting volley erupted that went on long enough to get the few fans oohing and aahing. Mo even stood up and cheered for Tami. She could hear his excited and familiar voice carrying through the acoustics of the gym, over the squeaking of shoes, the aaahs of the spectators, and the thud of the ball, which finally came down on the opponent's side.

"That's my girl!" Tami's father shouted, even though she hadn't been the one to strike it down. Tami's teammates laughed and high fived each other.

Mo kissed Tami on the sidelines afterwards and offered his congratulations. Her father approached them and asked if Mo would be joining the family for lunch, or if he and Tami planned to go out on their own. While Mo and the Reverend chatted, Tami's eyes drifted to the stands, where Kimberley had sat down a row in front of Eric and Jack. She was clearly flirting, and Eric was actually talking to her. Both boys were laughing at whatever Kimberley had said, but it was Eric's face that most struck Tami, because he always seemed so different, so happy, so alive with a smile on a face.

[*]

"Big game coming up on Saturday evening," Mr. Taylor said at the church door the next morning. "If we win this final game, it's off to State. And there will be eyes in the stands. My boy Eric is going to show those scouts a thing or two. Aren't you, son?"

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

"Got to run those routes before church though. Can't sleep in until 9:45 on Sunday mornings like you've been doing, like some lazy bones. Right, Reverend?"

"Do you often read the Bible, John?" the Reverend asked.

"As often as any layman, I suppose," Mr. Taylor answered.

"Do you recall that passage when Jesus says, 'man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath for man'?"

Mr. Taylor's jaw tightened, as though he understood he was being admonished, and he didn't like it. "I'm familiar with it," he said. He cleared his throat and looked at his wife. "Let's go, dear," and this time he was the one to tug on Mrs. Taylor's hand.

[*]

"Don't walk alone," Eric told Tami. "It's getting dark. I've just got to put something in the storage room."

Tami read the community bulletin board while she waited for him. She saw someone had put up a flyer for the clothing closet. She didn't think poor people often stopped in for overpriced coffee, but who knew. Eric's mother had probably given it to him to post.

When the shop was locked behind them, and they had begun strolling, Tami asked, "So what were you doing at the volleyball game on Saturday?"

"Watching the game," he said.

"Nobody comes to volleyball to watch the game. They come to support someone on the team, or to check out some girl they want to date. Was it Kimberley?"

"You gotta let up on this Kimberley thing, Tami. I'm not asking her out."

"Why not? Have you decided to get back together with your ex?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided _not_ to."

Tami wrapped her scarf around her neck. "But you had to have your eye on someone in the game, just in case things don't pan out with Lisa, right? I mean, it's not like you've ever gone to one before. Tell me who she is." If not Kimberley, then who? "

"There's nothing to tell you. Like I said, I just came to watch the game."

"Dawn Nichols?"

"Drop it!" His voice was so deep when he yelled that she thought the window of the shop they were passing might actually shake.

"All right," she practically whispered, surprised by his sudden anger. She hadn't meant to push his buttons, but maybe she could be too direct and opinionated sometimes.

"Sorry for yelling," Eric said softly.

"It's okay. Sorry for being so...pushy. I just..." _I worry about you_ , she thought, but she didn't think that was a good thing to say out loud. Eric needed to move on from this girl in Houston, Tami thought. He needed to get out from under the cloud of criticism his father cast over his life. He needed to go out, have fun, kiss a girl who admired him, and be _happy_.

"It was a good game, by the way," he said. "That was an awesome volley toward the end. It must have been some kind of record."

"Thanks."

It was quiet without Tami carrying the conversation. They were almost to the parsonage when he said, "I'm really sorry. I don't usually lose my cool like that. I've just...I'm under a lot of pressure. From my dad. From the team. Hell, from the whole town - to do well in this finals game on Saturday."

"And you didn't need me pressuring you about girls on top of that."

"Exactly." Then, firmly, he said, "I'll date who I want to date when I want to date her."

She knew what he meant, but it struck her as funny, and she chuckled. "Well that's pretty confident. Are you just gonna snap your fingers?"

He frowned. "You know what I meant."

She had image of Eric snapping his fingers and waiting for some girl to run to him, and her chuckle became a chortle.

His frown twitched upward. "It's not funny," he insisted, but soon enough, he was laughing too.

[*]

The pep rally on Friday morning had the rafters of Rankin High shaking. Eric had the biggest grin plastered to his face, as if he were soaking up the encouragement like a parched sponge. The cheerleaders did flips across the gym floor while the band played, and Tami and Kimberley stood next to each other, clapping in the stands.

"Why do they never throw pep rallies like this for us?" Tami asked. Volleyball season was over, but it would have been nice to have received this kind of encouragement.

"It's not football," Kimberley said. Then she leaned a little closer. "He's looking _really_ cute today."

"Eric?" Tami asked with a knowing nod. "Yeah. He's adorable when he smiles, isn't he?"

"Not Eric," Kimberley said. "Jack."

Tami's brow narrowed in puzzlement.

Kimberley had a dreamy look in her eyes. "He danced so well at Homecoming, too."

"You know he only dates Catholic girls, right?" Tami asked.

"I know. But I also know there aren't a lot of Catholic girls at Rankin High."

[*]

Tami hitched a ride to the final play-off game in College Station with Kimberley. They had to leave very early Saturday morning to make the long drive. The pair was planning to share a hotel room that night and drive back on Sunday. It was rare for Tami's father to allow her to skip church, but he knew how important it was to her to support Mo at this game. It didn't hurt that the Reverend knew Kimberley's parents from his joint community ministry with their church and that he considered her to be a well-raised and responsible young lady.

"I know you'll likely be going to some kind of party this weekend," he told her before she left. "And I know there will likely be alcohol. Promise me - "

"- I promise," Tami said. "I won't drink, Daddy. And I won't do anything foolish."

At the game, Eric played well, Mo played a little, and the Tigers won. The visitor's stands thundered with exaltation, to a chorus of stomping and screaming and horns. Sate was in the future of Rankin High, in the future of Tami's entire small town.

After the shaking of hands, as the players were dispersing, Tami noticed Eric running to the stands. A girl clamored down to greet him, his ex, presumably, who had promised to drive from Houston to watch him play. She was a pretty enough brunette, but she wasn't the stunning beauty Tami had imagined she must be. She wondered how such an ordinary girl had captured Eric's heart.

When the girl kissed him, Tami looked away and searched the sidelines for Mo.

[*]

The warmth of Mo's loose embrace mingled with the heat drifting off the bonfire as Tami sat cuddled on his lap. The party was at some player's cousin's girlfriend's brother's house, or something like that. All Tami knew for sure was that they were five miles from the hotel at the moment. After an hour of eating and dancing inside, Tami and Mo had made their way to the front yard, where a number of lawn chairs were set up around the fire.

Kimberley strolled up to them, her hand in Father Jack's. "Jack and I are going to catch a late movie," she told Tami. "Can y'all find a ride back to the hotel?"

"We'll manage," Tami told them.

Kimberley and Jack had gotten into some kind of long conversation in the kitchen at the start of the party, and Tami had seen them smiling and laughing every time she passed by. She'd also seen enough of a glint in Jack's eye to wonder if he might be considering making an exception to his rule of only dating Catholic girls. And now that they were holding hands and headed for the movie, it seemed Kimberley had persuaded him.

Mo noticed the hand holding too. "Hey," he said with a smirk, "who you rooming with tonight?"

"Eric," Jack said.

"Well, send him over to me and Tony's room if you need to." He winked.

Kimberley flushed red, and so did Jack, but he also shot Mo a peeved look, tugged on Kimberley's hand, and said, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

As they were leaving, Tony plopped down in the lawn chair closest the fire. "Send who to my room?"

"Eric."

"I think he's found a roommate already for tonight. Saw him hop in a car with some girl after the game."

"Yeah? What girl?" Mo asked.

"I didn't recognize her. Just some girl."

"His ex from Houston," Tami told them.

"All I know is it's about damn time!" Tony exclaimed. "I told him this morning he had better pop one off before State. That guy needs to _relax_."

"Pop one off," Tami said. "Lovely, Tony. Just a lovely expression."

"Can't you see there's a lady in your presence," Mo scolded him. He put his hands over her ears and said something to Tony that made him laugh.

Tami swatted Mo's hands away and rolled he eyes at him. He smiled and kissed her. "I love you," he whispered, and she smiled. Even though Mo had only played a few minutes during the third quarter, he _had_ almost scored a rushing touchdown, and she had to admit she was a little worked up by the game. So, a few minutes later, when he asked, "Want to take a private tour of the house?" she slid off his lap and led the way.

Their tour wound its way upstairs, where they found an empty bedroom.

[*]

Sunday morning, as they were packing to leave the hotel, Kimberley said, "I never really got the whole obsession over football. But watching Jack was fun. He's really good. Did you see that catch he made?"

"I saw it," Tami told her. She knew the one Kimberley was talking about, because Eric was under pressure to find an opening, and she'd been impressed at how quickly he'd done it and gotten the ball off. "So how did the movies go?" Tami had been asleep when Kimberley came in.

Kimberley grinned. "It was such a horrible movie," she said, "that we had to make-out just to get through it."

So much for fixing Kimberley up with Eric, Tami thought. Kimberley had moved on, and Eric, it seemed, had moved _back_.


	14. Plenty of Fish in the Sea

On Monday, an orange and black banner stretched across the main hallway of Ranking High bearing the words "Go Tigers! Bring Home the Ring!" The principal congratulated the football team over the loudspeaker for its play-off win to whoops and whistles and wads of paper tossed across homerooms. Eric was getting high fives in the hallway all day long, and he was actually returning them with a smile. In Government class, Tami watched girl after girl congratulate him on his performance, each one finding it necessary to put her hand on his shoulder or one of his arms when she did so. Tami wanted to ask him about his ex-girlfriend, but she could hardly do so, surrounded as he was by such a cloud of admirers.

So that evening, she went to Bo's Coffee & Bakery to study. At the counter, when Eric took her money for her usual decaf coffee, she said. "You were quite the highlight at school today."

"Yeah. That was a bit much."

"Well, enjoy it while you'll can. These are your glory days, right?"

"God, I hope not." The cash register clanged open. "I hope this is not the last thing I ever accomplish."

She took her change from him and put it in her purse. "I just mean…it's a big deal, making it all the way to State."

"It's not my first time making it to a State Championship, you know."

"I'd almost forgotten," she admitted. "But it's the first time in a _small_ town." She smiled. "Just try not to let it go to your head."

"Yeah, well, don't worry. My dad won't let it go to my head. He makes sure I know everything I achieve is not quite good enough. He - " Eric fell silent, and Tami sensed that another customer must be drawing up behind her. She grabbed her coffee, whispered bye, and found herself a table. The shop was unusually crowded, perhaps because people were out starting some early Christmas shopping. She'd have to wait until the walk home to ask about Lisa.

This time, when the clock struck 6:52, she helped him put up the chairs.

"You didn't have to do that," he said when they were done.

"Well, you know," she said as they headed to the shop door, "I appreciate that you take the time to walk me home. And today it occurred to me I've never said thank you for that."

He held the door open for her. "It occurred to me, too," he said as she walked through, "but I wasn't going to mention it, even though…" His voice took on the tone of a voice-over for a horror movie advertisement, "in the dark, I might be the only thing standing between you and…" He let go of the door handle, and it swung shut just as he concluded, " _The Thing!_ "

Tami laughed. "Did you see that movie last summer?"

He turned and locked the door. "Yeah"

"Did you go with your Houston girlfriend?"

"Yeah." He began walking beside her. Red and white Christmas lights twinkled along Main Street. "It's a great date movie."

"I know. I was clinging to Mo like crazy. But speaking of your Houston girlfriend, was that her you were kissing after the game?"

He nodded.

"I noticed you weren't at the party after."

"She had her car, so we went out to eat after the game. Then we..uh…went back to her hotel room."

"Oh." For some reason, Tami didn't want to hear that. "So you're back together?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "No. I don't think we can work long-term. I just don't think she's committed to it. So I told her that. I told her I'm going to move on."

"Wait." Tami stopped walking. He was two steps ahead of her before he noticed, and he stopped and turned. "You had _sex_ with her and _then_ told her you were moving on?" That seemed like a bit of a jerk move to her, not at all what she had come to expect of Eric.

"Who said we had sex?"

"You said you went back to her hotel room."

"Yeah. So I could tell her we weren't getting back together. _In private_. In case she started crying."

"Oh." Relieved, Tami resumed walking. "How did she react?"

"She started crying." He fell in step with her. "And then she said she made a huge mistake breaking up with me, and yada, yada…wanna get back together…and I said…I think you just want me right now because I'm right here, but when I'm not…" He shrugged. "Anyway, she didn't try too awfully hard to convince me, which kind of confirmed that I'd made the right decision. I think with her, you know…I don't think it was specifically _me_ she loved. She just loved having a regular boyfriend. But if I'm not there, well, someone else will do just as well."

"But it wasn't like that for you," Tami said softly.

"I don't know. Maybe it was. I thought I loved her. I was committed to making it work long distance. I was really hurt and angry when she broke it off. But the more I think about it…we weren't really that _close._ We spent a lot of time together, sure, and we… _you know_ …" Tami smiled that he couldn't bring himself to say they had sex. "We did everything steady boyfriends and girlfriends do. But we weren't that open with each other. I mean, I didn't even talk to her like I can talk to you. You were right. I _do_ need to move on."

"Then you're going to start dating?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think once State is out of the way, and that burden is off my mind, I'm finally going to ask someone out."

Tami felt guilty for steering him toward her teammate. "I think Kimberley's with Jack now."

"I know. He's been sweet on her since Homecoming."

This surprised Tami, but it helped to explain why Eric was, from the start, so determined not to be interested in Kimberley. "Why did Jack take so long to ask her out then? Is it the Catholic thing?"

Kimberley was a Baptist, and she was pretty involved in her youth group. Tami was sure Kimberly's family had no prejudice against Catholics, but some of those parishioners over at First Baptist did. Tami had gone to a Vacation Bible School there once in fourth grade, because her mother needed someplace to deposit her and Shelley for a week while she painted the walls of the parsonage. Tami had come home one day and asked her father what a "papist" was and why they were so "superstitious," and he'd sighed heavily.

"I guess that can be a problem if both people are devout," Eric said. "Me, I don't care about religious differences at all, but that's maybe because I don't care that much about my own religion."

"Well, I _do_ care about my religion, but I still don't care about religious differences. At all."

"Really?" he asked skeptically. "Would you date an atheist?"

"Sure. If he agreed to hold my hand in church every Sunday."

Eric laughed. "And I bet you could get an atheist to do that for you, too."

Probably not, she thought. She couldn't even get Boone to say hello to her in the halls of Rankin High the Monday after he took her virginity. Where was he now, she wondered? Still hanging out at high school parties somewhere, charming younger girls? He'd graduated her sophomore year and never come back.

"You a'ight?" Eric asked. "You look upset all of the sudden."

She shook off the memory. "I'm fine." She began to walk faster.

Eric caught up, but the conversation lagged until he, for a change, was the one to revive it. "When do you earn your car?"

"Christmas," she said. "My work at the church pays for half. The rest is my present."

"You get to pick it out?"

"Within a certain price range." They were at the parsonage now. There was an Advent candle glowing in the downstairs window, and she could hear her mother practicing Christmas music on the piano in the living room. The smell of evergreen drifted from the fresh wreath on the door. "I'll have to think of some more girls to fix you up with," she said. "But there are plenty of fish in the sea."

"There are you know," he told her. "Plenty. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling you."

"But do _you_ know that?" he asked.

"I have a steady boyfriend. I'm not looking to go fishing."

"Yeah." His eyes spoke a language she couldn't quite understand. "See you tomorrow," he said, and with that little nod-bow of his, he was gone.


	15. Defense

Tami decided to study at the coffee shop the next evening as well, even though she never went twice in a row. Eric, as usual, walked her home. It was a clear, crisp evening, with the scent of fall still lingering in the air, and the windows of the closed shops were littered with decorations – cottony snow, lighted stars, brilliantly red poinsettias, and silver and gold tinsel. It was cool enough that Tami needed a coat, but not so cool that she needed to button it.

"So you ready for Friday's game?" she asked. The State Championship would be held Friday evening in Abilene at Shotwell Stadium. The team bus was leaving at 10 AM, and school was letting out at noon so that admiring fans would have plenty of time to make the drive. Friday morning would no doubt be witness to the biggest, most frenzied pep rally the school had ever known.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"You going to Jackson's party on Saturday?" Whether the Tigers won or lost, its punter was planning on throwing a magnificent party after the team bus got back to town. "I know Mo is."

"I guess so. Most of the team is going to be there, so I kind of feel obligated."

" _Obligated_? To go to a _party_?"

"Honestly? I don't really like parties," he confessed. "I know I _have_ to go sometimes, to be a part of the team and all, but…" He shrugged.

"What don't you like about them?"

"I hate those stupid drinking games, for one. I mean, I like a beer or two, but just chugging it? And everything's always so loud that you can't have a real conversation, not even about football. And people are always trying to get me to jump up on a table or kiss some mystery girl in a dark closet."

"You are _so_ straight laced," she said. "Do you ever have fun?"

"I'm having fun right now." He smiled lightly at her, almost as if he was considering his own private joke.

"Well, I'm not going either. That's my father's birthday. We're going out for dinner as a family and then going to see _A Christmas Story_."

"You should go to Taylor's for dinner."

She assumed he was joking and laughed. "Yeah. My mom would _love_ that."

"But your dad likes it there. And he'd get a free birthday beer."

"What do you mean he _likes_ it there?" Tami asked.

"Well, I mean, he's been there every Saturday from one to three since it opened."

"What?" Tami asked. " _My_ dad? I thought he just went the once."

"Oh." Eric's eyes darted around.

"What does he do there for _two_ hours? How much does he drink?"

"Just a pint," Eric insisted. "He just hangs out, you know. We play darts."

"You and my dad?"

"Sometimes we play pool."

"You hang out with my father every Saturday for two hours at a bar?"

"Unless I have to taxi someone, but that almost never happens before three." He leaned down, a gesture of confidentially, and said, "I'm supposed to be studying when I'm not taxing. But my dad isn't there on Saturday afternoons to see."

"He's there _every_ Saturday? I mean, I don't care, but I don't think it's good for their marriage for my dad to be keeping a secret like that from my mom."

"I don't think he's keeping it from your mom. She called down one afternoon asking for him because she thought he accidentally took her house keys."

"Really?"

Eric nodded.

Tami shook her head. The things she didn't know about her parents' marriage could fill a book. "Why doesn't your dad drink at all, by the way? I mean…he owns a bar."

"I don't know," Eric answered. "Your dad thinks it's because he doesn't ever want to feel like he's not in control. His mom died when he was eight, which left him alone with his stepfather, who was mentally unstable."

"How sad."

"My dad grew up in complete disorder. His stepfather couldn't hold a job for long, worked on and off, and he would just leave trash lying all over the house. There was no food in the fridge half the time. The man was completely unpredictable, left at a different time every morning, came back at a different time every evening. The Reverend says that might be the reason for my dad's perfectionism and some of his control issues - that he just went to the other extreme to survive the chaos."

"That makes some sense."

"My dad essentially struck out on his own at fifteen."

Tami was dumbfounded. "Fifteen?"

"He dropped out of high school, worked three different part-time jobs, two of them off the books to avoid labor laws."

"I always assumed he was some high school football star. Football is so important to him."

"No. My _success_ in football is important to him. If I'd been good at baseball or soccer or, hell, even science instead, he'd have driven me just as hard in one of those areas. He was like that with Kathleen, when it came to math and music."

"I assumed he went to college and played college ball and majored in business."

Eric shook his head. "He just got his GED. He pulled himself up by his bootstraps. And it's important to him to produce successful, disciplined children, so they never have to live like he had to live in the beginning, or like my mom had to live before they got married. She was really struggling after Kathleen's father took off."

Tami's eyes widened. "Wait. What?"

"Don't go talking about this, but...Kathleen's my half-sister. My mom eloped after her junior year of high school, but her husband took off less than a year after Kathleen was born. He didn't pay his child support. Her own parents had disowned her when she eloped, and she had nowhere to turn."

"Wow."

"They were barely scraping by when my dad hired my mom a year later. She was 20. He was 25 at the time, but he was already managing a bar."

"She told me she was a bar maid."

"He paid her well. Let her bring Kathleen to work sometimes, when she couldn't find help. She'd sleep in a playpen in his office. My mom always says he saved them from poverty. I think she's told me all this about him to defend him to me, because she loves him. But I don't." He sighed. "I don't love my own father." He swallowed. "I even told your dad I hate him."

"And what did my dad say?" Tami asked.

"He said, _Don't make that mistake._ He said my dad is just a man, with his own struggles and his own demons, and if I let myself hate him, that hatred could come to define me."

It occurred to Tami that her father was counseling Eric, and Eric didn't even know it. Eric probably couldn't have brought himself to set foot in her father's office. The guys on the team would have made fun of him if they knew he was seeing a counselor about his daddy issues, and Mr. Taylor would call him weak if he ever found out, but Eric _could_ play a game of darts. He _could_ shoot some pool with the Reverend.

"Sorry," he said. "I got to running my mouth there." He fell silent, and they walked in that silence for a while.

Before it could get awkward, she said, "I heard some guy from A&M was talking to you."

"Yeah. Surprised me, honestly. That's a seriously good team."

"It shouldn't surprise you. The Tigers _are_ going to State on Friday. You did that."

"The _team_ did that."

"You helped. A lot," she told him. "The scouts know that. Everyone knows that."

"Does Mo? Because he blames me for stealing his thunder."

"He did at first," Tami said, "a little bit, but he's over that now. He cares about the team, and about winning as a team."

"You aren't in the locker room, Tami. You aren't on the field."

"What does that mean?"

"How well do you really know him?"

Tami's interior defenses shot up like a stone wall seeking to guard some vulnerable and precious jewel. There were no windows in that wall. She couldn't see out. She didn't _want_ to see out, because then that beautiful jewel might vanish like a mirage. "What does that mean? You think you know my boyfriend better than I do? I've dated him for _over_ a year. I've shared my _heart_ with him."

"Yeah." Eric nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry." He buried his hands in his coat pockets and walked faster.

[*]

The black knob twirled to the right and then smoothly slid back to 0. Right 23. Left 18. Right 35. Mo's locker clicked open. The contents were as scattered as his thoughts could be. It always amazed Tami how successful Mo was in school when he couldn't seem to keep anything in order and he never studied. Mo aced his tests, so even though he forgot to turn in his homework half the time, he had a solid B average. He was smart. Even if it wasn't obvious to others, Tami saw how quickly he picked things up, and that was one of the things she admired about him.

In her hand, Tami held a small box containing a cupcake. The orange sprinkles lodged in the dark brown icing formed Mo's jersey number. After setting the box on the floor, she began rummaging through his locker. Tami told herself she _had_ to rearrange his books and papers in order to set the cupcake somewhere, because she didn't want to admit to herself that Eric's hints had made her suspicious. If she _had_ been looking for clues that something was amiss with Mo, however, she didn't find them. There were no revenge plans against Eric, no rally girl's panties, no photo of some other girl, no notes. Just a mess of books and papers. And even though she told herself she _hadn't_ been suspicious, she still felt relieved.

Tami stacked Mo's books as neatly as she could manage. She set a note down on top of his Physics book. On top of that, she placed the cupcake.

"That's what I miss most about having a girlfriend."

Jolted by Eric's voice, Tami slammed Mo's locker shut.

"The cupcakes?" she asked. _Not the sex?_ "Don't you have a rally girl for that?" Of course, he could probably get a rally girl for the sex, too, if he wanted.

"I meant the notes. It's nice to have an entire letter where someone only says good things about you." He nodded to the locker. "Did you organize it while you were in there?"

Tami leaned back against the cool, orange metal of the closed door. She felt like a two-year old who has just been caught climbing the sink to get in the medicine cabinet.

Fortunately, she was saved by the bell.

[*]

At lunch, Mo thanked Tami for the cupcake he'd discovered in his locker. "Sugar from my sweet," he said, and kissed her across the table.

"Let's do something tonight," she told him. "I feel like we aren't spending enough time together."

"Will your dad even let you? On a school night?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It just seems like we used to be…inseparable, you know? Remember when we used to sit in church together every Sunday? It might sound silly, because it's so simple, but…I miss that."

"Well come to my mom's church with me tonight then. I bet your dad would let you do that."

"On a Wednesday?"

"They have Wednesday evening services. I never go. Just seems like a repeat of Sunday to me. But we could go this one time, and afterwards…" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe take the long way home? Park? I mean, I should probably let off some steam before State."

[*]

Mo's church was different to Tami, but she was glad to be there. Mo held her hand when they were sitting, which made her feel content and reminded her of those early days of their relationship. When they rose to sing the hymns, she loved to hear the surprising sweetness of his voice. It reminded her of Mo the choirboy, of how he had once come to her rescue with his "Amen!", and of how shyly he had asked her for that first date.

Pages rustled as they turned to the next hymn. Mo caught her eyes and smiled. "You're beautiful," he mouthed, and, in that moment, she was as sure as she had ever been of his love.


	16. Losing Faith

**A/N:** I didn't remember that the guy at the party Tami mentioned to Julie had a name (Doug Odom), so I made up the name Boone. Rather than back track and correct it in all the previous chapters, I'll stick with the invented name for this story. Thanks to everyone for all the comments thus far. They are very encouraging! Please keep commenting.

 **[*]**

On Thursday, Rankin High School was abuzz with anticipation. Between first and second period, Tony Sullivan, linebacker and one of Mo's best buddies, ran down the center of the hall, flexing his muscles and screaming, "Twenty-six hours until Staaaaaaate!"

From beside Tami, Kimberley laughed. "He can't add very well, can he?"

Jack came up behind them and put a hand on Kimberley's shoulder. "Maybe he's thinking of when the bus is leaving, give or take two hours."

"I wouldn't give him that much credit," Kimberley said. She turned back her head to kiss him. Jack kissed back, briefly, but then pulled away. "Don't be afraid of PDA in front of Tami," Kimberley told him. "You should have seen her and Mo sucking face by her locker earlier this morning."

"Where _is_ Mo?" Jack asked. "I haven't seen Eric, either."

"Maybe they went to class already." Kimberley leaned back against Jack's chest. "I'm going to come watch you at practice today."

"Then you better stay behind the line. Coach is getting ticked off by how many girls are starting to hang out around the practice field. So he drew a line. _Literally_."

Kimberley pouted. "Fine. Then I'll stay in my place. I just want to support you."

Jack smiled down at her.

The warning bell rang. Just as it did, the door at the end of the hall, a few feet from where Tami stood, was thrust open. A burst of cool air shot in. Mo came in, and, after him, Eric.

"We good?" Mo asked.

"Yeah. We're cool," Eric said, though he looked irritated.

They shook hands. Mo tapped him twice on the side of his shoulder. "See you at practice."

When Mo caught sight of Tami, he came and draped his arm around her shoulders.

"What was that all about?" she asked as they began walking toward class.

"Ah, I just heard a rumor he's been coming on to you behind my back."

"That's absurd," Tami said. "Why didn't you just ask me? I could have told you that's not true."

"We had to handle it man to man, that's all. Don't worry. We got it all cleared up." He kissed her and smiled. "Hey," he said in an excited whisper, "We're going to State tomorrow!"

[*]

Tami walked across the street from the school to the spot where her father usually picked her up to take her to the church office to work. She couldn't wait until she had her own car, in less than four weeks.

The Reverend rolled down the window when she approached. "They're fumigating the office today," he said, "so we can't work. I'm headed home to spend some quality time with your mother. Why don't you stay and watch Mo's practice and then hitch a ride home with him?"

"I can just come with you now," Tami said. Practice didn't really excite her. It wasn't like a _game_.

"No, go on, go ahead. Enjoy yourself. Don't you want to watch the last practice before State?"

"I don't really like practice."

"Shelley isn't going to be home," he said. "She's got dance practice."

"So?" Tami asked.

"I want to spend some _quality time_ with your mother."

" _Oh_." Tami did not want to picture that scene. "I'll stay for practice then."

Her father cranked up the window and drove off.

Tami made her way to the field, where the players were just beginning to emerge. She watched them do their warm-up laps. Eric glanced at her as he jogged by, and then seemed to speed up. She waited for Mo, so she could blow a kiss to him, but she didn't see him there. She crossed the line the watching girls were not supposed to cross, and asked Coach Tanner, who was writing something on a clipboard, where Mo was.

"Get back ten feet if you want to gawk, young lady," he said. "And Mo forgot his playbook in his _school_ locker of all places. He ran back inside to get it. And he better be quick about it, too, because if he's any later for practice today than he was on Monday, he's going to be benched for all of State."

Late for practice? Mo could be a bit scattered about due dates, but Tami hadn't imagined he would ever be late for anything so important as practice, and twice in one week, no less. She made her way into the school to let Mo know that Coach Tanner seemed pissed off and that he better _run_ back. He was probably searching around in that mess of books and papers in his locker.

Mo's locker was in the upstairs hall, and Tami took a rarely used stairwell to get there. As she climbed the first flight of stairs, she saw a pair of jean-clad legs, ending in black leather boots, through the bars on the landing of the second flight.

She heard the loud smacking of lips and was about to turn around and leave the couple alone when she recognized Mo's groan: "God, yeah, Oh yeah. You're not wearing a bra. Bad girl."

Then Anita Nisbeth's voice: "You want it right here, baby? Right now?"

"I'm going to be late. I - Ohhhhhh….God."

"You're so hard, baby." Anita slid to her knees, and Tami could see, just above the cheerleader's head, the black uniform pants, with the orange stripe down the side.

Mo's hand fell to Anita's hair. "If I'm gonna be late," he said, "this better be even better than the last one."

Without a word, Tami turned and fled the stairwell.

 **[*]**

She didn't cry right away. Tami stood outside the door where the stairwell exited, her back against the scratchy brick wall of the school, not quite believing what she had just seen and heard.

She was in a state of shock.

Some part of her knew that she and Mo had been drifting apart, and she could imagine an end to their relationship, but she couldn't imagine it like _this_. A completely meaningless blow job from Anita Nisbeth? In the _stairwell_ for Christ's sake? And not the first one, apparently.

Who the hell was Mo McArnold?

How long had this been going on? How far had it gone? How often had it gone there? How long had he lied to her? How long had she _believed_ his lies?

Mo was supposed to be one of the good ones. Mo was no Boone. If Mo was like this…were they _all_ like this? Every boy? Every man? Had even her own father cheated on her mother once? Was _that_ why her mother had sometimes seemed so bitter and moralistic? Was _that_ why they had _really_ gone to marriage counseling?

It wasn't just her relationship with Mo that died in that stairwell. Tami's faith – her faith in love, in men, in her own sense of perception, in the words people say – her faith itself snapped loose from its anchor and spiraled into space.


	17. Liars

Mo must have exited through another door, because Tami never saw him leave for practice. She eventually slid down the brick wall onto the hard, cool earth and sat there for well over an hour, her knees drawn up to her chest, stunned for half of it, and crying for the rest. Her feelings morphed from shock to sorrow, and then from sorrow to anger. It was the anger she was feeling when she watched Eric Taylor, always the first one out of the locker room, walking to the black pick-up truck he had parked that morning in the lot behind the school.

She stood and strode across the asphalt. He had just tossed his orange duffle bag into the backseat and turned around when she was upon him. She shoved him against his shoulder blades. More from surprise than force, he thudded back against the pick-up.

"You knew!" she shouted. "Didn't you!"

"Damn, Tami! What the hell!"

She pushed him again. "You knew!"

He gripped her by either shoulder to keep her from shoving him. "Knew what? What's wrong with you?"

"You knew Mo was cheating on me with Anita! You knew this whole time! I saw them in the stairwell before practice. I saw him…You knew!"

"Tami, you have got to calm down."

"You knew, and you didn't tell me! I thought you were my friend! You…you…." She trembled, and the tears started gushing again, and she collapsed against the hard pillow of his chest. It wasn't until his arms surrounded her, and she was engulfed in his warm embrace, that she realized how cold she'd grown from sitting against the wall for such a long time.

"Watch out, Taylor," came Tony's voice from several feet away. "That's Mo's girl. He warned you once!"

"Get in my truck," Eric told Tami. "Get in my truck before Mo gets out here."

"I want him out here. I'm going to claw his eyes out."

"That's why you need to get in the truck." He took her roughly by the arm and pulled her around the other side. Tony was lumbering up into his own pick-up several spaces away.

"Right now," Eric ordered. He opened the passenger door. "I'm taking you home."

Numbly, Tami climbed in, and he closed the door. Eric came around to the other side, leapt in, cranked the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, the engine of his pick-up unsteadily vrooming, as if it couldn't quite keep up with its driver's will. He slowed down once they were on the street.

Tami wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her jean jacket. "She was about to give him a blo…" She choked and started crying again.

Eric stretched out one arm and opened the glove compartment. He rustled around on top of the truck manual, behind a pair of sunglasses and a tire gauge, until he found a pack of tissues, which he handed to her before slapping the glove compartment shut.

Tami blew her nose and shoved the Kleenex in the pocket of her jacket. His car smelled of fresh pine. How could she notice that, at a time like this? She stared out the windshield for a while, and finally said, "All those hints. I can see them now. How long did you know?"

He didn't answer.

"I thought you and I were friends. You don't even seem to like Mo, but you kept his secret anyway. Why didn't you just _tell_ me? Because he's your football brother?"

Eric stared fiercely at the road.

"So you cover for each other, is that it?" she spat. "You lie for each other."

"I have _never_ lied for Mo McArnold! I didn't _know_ he was cheating. I just _suspected_ it. And you never asked me if I thought he was."

"You could have _told_ me you thought he was!" she sobbed. "You could have told me directly!"

"Look at you!" He glanced from the road to her, then from her to the road. "Do you think _I_ wanted to be the one to do this to you?"

"How long have you suspected? How often did you see them together? How -"

"- Tami, these questions won't do you any good."

Tami was a seething cauldron of anger, ready to explode, but Mo wasn't here to receive the blast. "Fine," she spat. "You'd just lie to me, too. You're just like all the rest," she told him. "I bet you got a blow job from Anita too."

"That's ridiculous."

"You just didn't want to have to bother to take her to Homecoming first."

"Tami, that's ridiculous."

"You're all the same, aren't you? Boone, Mo…all of you."

"Who's Boone?"

He didn't know about Boone, of course. Didn't know what she'd done, who she'd been. "I guess it's just what I deserve. I'm just a whore like Anita, aren't I?"

"What are you talking about, Tami? Don't talk about yourself that way!"

"Boone is the 17 year old guy I had sex with at a party when I was fifteen. I hardly knew him. But I screwed him anyway. It was a mistake, and I never did anything like that again, but I guess maybe Mo heard I put out, so that's why he wanted to date me."

Eric shook his head. "Tami, you and Mo dated for over a year. It wasn't casual for him. Mo's an ass. He's impulsive. He doesn't think things through. But you are _not_ Anita. And Anita's _nothing_ to Mo. She's just a release to him."

"That's even worse, if she's nothing to him. He betrayed me for nothing! I'm worth less than NOTHING!"

Eric rubbed his eyes. "No, you're not. He doesn't deserve you, but you are not…" He sighed and fell silent.

She turned and stared out the passenger window. She said nothing else until he pulled up to the curb alongside the parsonage. Her emotions were a choppy sea undulating in a sudden storm. "What were you and Mo talking about outside this morning?"

"Tony told Mo he saw us walking together Tuesday night. I guess he was driving by. I told Mo I was just looking out for his girl by not letting her walk alone at night, like he would want me to do. And then I might have also told him, as a matter of brotherly advice, that he was lucky to have you and that if he wanted to keep you, he better make sure he treated you with respect."

"Because you _knew_ ," she spat. "All this time, you knew and didn't tell me."

"I _didn't_ know. I _suspected_."

"And you told my father, but you didn't tell me?"

Eric switched off his running engine. "What?"

In her shocked and injured state, Tami's mind was a confused tangle of emotions, leaping from one perceived injustice to another, questioning _everything_. "During one of your little counseling sessions?" she asked. "On Saturday at the bar? Did you tell my dad Mo was cheating on me?"

"What? I wasn't even at the bar last Saturday. We were at play-offs."

"I was supposed to be working today." Tami's voice was high with anger. "I wasn't supposed to be in that stairwell. But my dad told me to go watch practice today. Did you tell him Mo would be there with Anita?"

"No, I didn't tell him that."

"Am I supposed to believe it was just a _coincidence_?"

"Tami, I didn't know Mo was going to be in that stairwell with Anita, and I certainly didn't know _you_ were going to be in it. I talk to your dad at the bar, yeah, but we talk about my dad, about school, about my plans…We don't talk about _you_."

"It was a set-up. My dad set me up to find out Mo."

"I can't imagine him doing that, Tami, but if he did, it was because he had his own suspicions. We _never_ talk about you in that bar. I swear."

"You're full of shit. You're a liar. You're _all_ liars." She threw open the door to his pick-up and stumble down like she was drunk.

She'd taken two steps toward the parsonage when the door opened and her father walked out. He looked a little disheveled. His prematurely silver-gray hair was all askew; he had on his usual black slacks - but with no belt - and only a white undershirt. Maybe he hadn't set her up. Maybe he really had been spending _quality time_ with her mother.

"Tami," he said. "I saw you out the window. I saw you screaming in the truck. What's wrong?" He took one look at her tear-stained face, and one look at Eric through the window of the pick-up. Anger and confusion flashed across his face. "Did _Eric_ do something?"

"I just want to be alone!" Tami cried, and shoved past him and into the parsonage. She clamored upstairs to her bedroom, locked the door, threw herself on her bed, and wept.

Twenty minutes later, she went to the window to close the blinds. She didn't want any light taunting her. Her window faced the street. Eric's pick-up was still along the curb. She saw her father was in the passenger seat, and they were talking.

The blinds fell slowly shut.


	18. Talking

The door rattled in its wooden frame as the Reverend knocked. "Tami, open up."

"I want to be left alone!"

"I made Eric tell me what happened. I know what happened with Mo. Open up and let me…just _let_ me."

"Go away, Daddy!"

Silence.

[*]

Twenty minutes later, another knock. Her father's voice at the door: "Your mother made a delicious corned beef and cabbage. It's one of her best. Come eat with us."

Her cry was muffled by the tissues against her nose: "Go away."

Silence.

[*]

Fifteen minutes later, another knock.

"I've left a plate in the hallway," her father said. "In case you're hungry."

[*]

Tami never did emerge from her room. At some point, she cried herself to sleep. Friday morning, another knock came to her door, Shelley's voice this time: "It's almost time to leave for school, Tami!"

The pep rally would be this morning. Tami couldn't stand the thought of attending it. She couldn't tolerate Mo trotting out there proudly on the gym floor, to the beat of the band, with Anita doing her stupid, slutty cheers. She didn't want to confront Mo about his infidelity yet, not in front of the whole school, at this time of feverish excitement, on the morning of the State Championship.

"I'm sick!" she hollered through the door. "I can't go!"

"But it's State today! You promised you'd let me ride with you and Kimberley! I'm sure Daddy won't let me go if you're not there to supervise me! You promised. You - "

Tami heard her father's voice, calling Shelley's name. He must have led her away to talk to her.

[*]

Several minutes later, the Reverend's voice, even in its softness, broke through the barrier of Tami's door: "I've arranged for Shelley to go to State with a family I trust. If you need to stay home today, very well. If you don't want to go to State, very well. But this afternoon, when I come home from the office, we _will_ talk."

[*]

Tami cried herself back to sleep. She slept until 10:30 AM, when, famished from her skipped dinner the previous night, she thought of venturing out to eat, but she knew her mother would be home. Mrs. Hayes volunteered from 11:00 AM to 1:00 PM at the food pantry. So Tami waited another half hour before going to the kitchen. She found the leftover corned beef her father had returned to the fridge when it was clear she wasn't going to open her door to eat it. It didn't taste like anything at all when she gobbled it down, but it stopped the gnawing in her stomach.

When the kitchen phone rang, she answered it instinctively. As soon as she had said hello, she feared it might be Mo, but it was only Kimberley.

"Hey, Tami. I'm calling from the school office. They said you're out sick today? Are you going to be able to ride to Abilene with me for the game?"

"I can't go," Tami muttered.

"Do I still need to take Shelley?"

"She's going with another family."

"Tami, are you okay?" Kimberly's voice was high with concern. "You sound like you've been crying."

"I'm just…stuffed up."

"You can't take a bunch of medicine? I mean…it's State."

"I'm throwing up every couple of minutes," she lied.

"Oh, poor thing. What horrible timing. Well, you won't miss Mo playing. Rumor is Coach Tanner is going to bench him for the entire game just because he was fifteen minutes late for the practice yesterday."

Tami suddenly felt like she _did_ want to throw up.

"Seems kind of harsh," Kimberley continued. "Jack thinks Coach just expects Eric to carry the entire game and he wants to try out that new JV guy for a little when he's resting Eric. Not fair to Mo, though. I mean, to not be able to play at State!"

Tami dug her nails into the formica countertop. She didn't want to hear the words _fair_ and _Mo_ in the same sentence. As far as she was concerned, _nothing_ would be too unfair for Mo right now.

"You should probably know," Kimberley said, "that Mo and Eric go into a fight after the pep rally, in the hall, before the team bus left."

"What were they fighting over?"

" _You_ , apparently."

Oh God. Did everyone know already? Did they all know what a fool she'd been? How she'd been thrown over for _Anita Nisebth_? Did everyone know before she'd even had a chance to confront Mo? No, she thought. If they did, Kimberley would be acting very differently right now.

Kimberley continued, "Mo said that Tony said he saw Eric hugging you in the parking lot yesterday. Is that _true_?"

"Yes, but it wasn't like that. I just got some bad news and he was comforting me." Tami would tell Kimberley about Mo, eventually, but she couldn't bring herself to do it right now, not while Kimberley was standing in the school office and about to head to State.

"Comforting you?" Kimberley asked doubtfully. "You were being comforted by the guy you told me is adorable when he smiles?"

How could it possibly be that _Tami_ was the one being painted as a cheater here? "I told you that because I thought you were talking about him and that you liked him. I was trying to fix you two up. Eric and I are _just_ friends!" That was, if he still considered her a friend after the awful things she'd said to him yesterday. "And yes, he was _just_ comforting me."

"Well, Mo sure didn't like it. He got up in Eric's face about it. And Eric just stood there, looking really pissed off, not saying a _word_."

A temporary relief soothed some of Tami's tension. Eric, it seemed, had not told anyone – not even Mo - what Tami had seen.

"And Mo just kept after him, calling him a liar, telling him to stop coming on to you, and then Eric just…bam! Without a word, he threw Mo against a locker. Then Mo shoved him against another locker, but before it could get any worse, Principal Coolidge broke it up. They were in his office until the team bus left."

Tami couldn't believe the nerve Mo had, to calling _Eric_ a traitor. Mo didn't know the meaning of betrayal.

"What were you doing after school that late yesterday anyway?" Kimberley asked.

"I stayed to watch the practice."

"I didn't see you there. I was there. Why didn't you come hang out with me?"

"Kimberley, I have to go. I think I'm going to throw up." Tami hung up the phone.

[*]

The trash basket beside Tami's bed was overflowing with crumpled tissues. She'd just tossed another one on top of the teetering mound when there came a knock at the door. She didn't answer. The doorknob rattled. "Tami, unlock this door," her father demanded.

Reluctantly, she did. She crawled back into her bed and sat up on top of the comforter against the headboard. The Reverend Hayes pulled out her desk chair, turned it to face her, and sat down. "Mo won't be the last boy you ever love," he said.

"He'll be the last boy I ever trust."

"No. He won't. But it's okay to be angry right now. And it's probably a good idea if you don't date for a while. Maybe not until college."

"Daddy, if I ask you some questions, will you promise to tell me the truth?"

"Yes."

"How will I know if it's the truth?" she asked.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Tami blinked to hold back the tears. "How would I know if you had? I didn't know Mo was lying!"

"You suspected. Part of you suspected."

She gritted her teeth. Speaking of liars, how often had she lied to herself?

"What are your questions, sweetheart?"

"Did Eric tell you Mo was cheating on me? Before I found out, did he tell you?"

"No."

"He didn't tell you, not on a single one of those afternoons you spent at the bar? I know about your Saturday afternoons."

"We never talked about you."

"Did _you_ know that Mo was cheating on me?" she asked. "Did you set me up to discover him?"

"I never would have put you in such a situation, Tami, and shocked you in that way, but it doesn't particularly surprise me that he was cheating. I watched him change. You watched it too. You just didn't want to _see_ it. First he let the attention go to his head toward the end of last season, as I warned you he might, and then when Eric stepped in, and Mo lost all that attention," the Reverend snapped his fingers, "like that, he let the jealousy go to his head. And he sought that attention elsewhere."

"But I gave him attention!" It wasn't until she'd said it that she realized the admission she was making.

Her father's face reddened, and he looked almost sick to his stomach. But he didn't ask about what kind of _attentions_ she'd paid Mo. Instead, he said, "You can't satisfy an ego that's collapsing into a black hole, Tami. And that cheerleader won't be able to satisfy it either. Until Mo realizes that, though, he's just going to keep spiraling down. Don't let him take you down with him."

"One more question." Tami looked down at her bedspread, a swirl of pink and purple patches, which had been quilted together by her grandmother in a more innocent time. Tami was far too old for such a girlish pattern now, but it had been the last gift Grandma Hayes had given her before she died, and Tami still cherished it. "Have you ever cheated on Mom?"

"What?"

"Have you?" Tami looked up, a little defiantly. "Is _that_ why you had marriage problems?"

"No. Tami, no. How could you think that?"

"Well I didn't think Mo was cheating on me!"

"Tami, adultery is so destructive. It tears apart hearts. It tears apart families. It overthrows people's minds, makes them doubt themselves. It's a psychological torture to the victim. I haven't always been the best husband. But I have never, ever, done that. I swear to you. Please believe me."

Tami was relieved to discover that she _did_ believe him. It wasn't all dead, her faith. "I do," she said quietly, and then repeated his words, "A psychological torture." She picked at a loose string on her comforter. "I know Mo and I weren't married, but…that's kind of how I feel right now. Like I'm being… tortured."

"I'm sure it is." There was silence between them for a moment, and then he said, "When you were a little girl, and you would fall and skin your knee, and you would come to me crying, I would kiss it and make it all better. I wish to God I could do that now."

She smiled weakly. "You used to take me for ice cream, too. You said ice cream freezes the pain away."

He nodded. "Want to go for ice cream?" he asked hopefully.

"I don't want to go anywhere. But if you were to go buy a pint of Blue Bell's Mint Chocolate Chip, and bring it home…I wouldn't say no."

They ate the ice cream before dinner, and Tami's mother didn't even scold them for running their appetites. Tami was glad Shelley was gone for State. Her little sister would be asking too many prying questions about why Tami wasn't going.

During dinner, Tami's mother was strangely attentive, constantly offering to refill her glass, get her a second helping, and asking her if the thermostat was too high.

"I wish we had cable," Tami said. "I didn't want to go to the game, but it would be nice to know what's going on." The game was being televised on one of the cable stations, but the Reverend refused to spring for that modern technology. They had rabbit ears and got five stations.

"We could turn on the radio," Mrs. Hayes suggested.

The Reverend dropped his napkin on the table. "I'll do you one better. Let's go watch it at Taylor's."

"I don't know..." Tami said. "People will wonder why I'm not at the game. And it's probably already halfway through the second quarter anyway."

"Everyone you know will be out of town at the actual game. It shouldn't be crowded, and they have a huge television."

"Are you coming?" Tami asked her mother. She didn't want her to. Tami could relate to her father much better than her mother, and she didn't want to be beneath her mother's scrutiny while she was watching the game.

"I'm not much for bars," Mrs. Hayes said. "I think I'll just stay behind and clean up."

"Okay," Tami said to her father. "Let's see how the Tigers are doing."


	19. Benched

Tami and her father sat at a high table some distance from the bar at a good angle to see the television. There was no one seated at the surrounding tables. Everyone was at the bar, which leant them some privacy.

This was the first time Tami had set foot in Taylor's, and she was impressed by how clean and well-lit it was. She thought of small town bars as dingy places, and The Drunken Kickoff, which had previously inhabited these walls, had certainly held that reputation. But Taylor's had more of a family restaurant feel to it. There were board games stacked in a book shelf against one far wall, two ping pong tables, four pool tables, several dart boards, corn hole, shuffle board, a juke box, and two pinball machines. Yet the bar itself was well stocked, with bottles lined from end to end and stacked up on three glass shelves. She'd had no idea there were so many different varieties of whiskey and vodka.

There were slick menus printed up, listing appetizers and sandwiches. The town of Rankin didn't have much in the way of restaurants. Everything was fast food or cafeteria style. In fact, outside of the diner, there was nowhere you could go to be waited on, and most people drove twenty miles to Dillon for the new Applebee's if they wanted sit-down dinning. But Tami supposed many of them were coming to Taylor's now. Mr. Taylor had found a need and plugged it, and she supposed this place would be packed if everyone wasn't out of town for the Championship.

Scanning the mostly empty place, she was glad to see no familiar faces from church or any parents of friends. The cherry-brown bar was lined almost entirely with men, all in work boots and jeans and T-shirts. They'd probably just gotten off from the oil fields and shed their outer work suits. One hadn't washed up too well. Tami could see a streak of black on the back of his neck.

"Hey, Reverend Hayes," the waiter said as he approached the table, "you're usually here on Saturday."

"Well, we're here to see the game. What's the score?" It was already halftime, and, at the moment, the marching band was on the field, filling up the TV screen with splashes of color.

"Ah…It's not good. The Tigers are putting up a really good defense, but that's no good if we can't get on the scoreboard. We're losing 7 to 0. What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll get a pint of Shiner Bock to start and a Shirley Temple for the lady."

The waiter nodded and disappeared. The Reverend watched the band and said, "I wonder if Shelley will try out for the marching band next year."

"She wants to be a cheerleader instead," Tami told him. "She's planning to try out in the spring."

"But she played that clarinet so well in 8th grade." He shook his head. "I wish she'd _stick_ with something." Shelley was in drama this year as a freshman, and she took dance classes. Last year she'd played clarinet and been on the junior high girls' softball team. The year before that, she'd been on the jump rope team and student council. "She could really excel if she ever spent more than six months doing any one thing."

Tami shrugged. He was right, but no one was ever going to get Shelley to settle on anything.

The waiter returned with their drinks and promptly vanished. Tami stirred hers and took a small sip. It tasted cloyingly sweet, but she supposed that was her bitter mood, and not the preparation itself. "Did Eric tell you the things I said to him yesterday?" she asked.

"He told me you stumbled upon Mo in the stairwell _i_ _n flagrante delicto_ ," her father answered, "with a cheerleader of ill repute."

"I assume you're paraphrasing."

"A tad," her father conceded.

"But did he tell you that I said some not nice things to him?"

"He said you were not yourself."

"I hope he forgives me." She also hoped he didn't think less of her now that he knew about Boone.

"I'm sure he will. He knows how angry and irrational _he_ was when his girlfriend broke up with him."

"Did he tell you that in one of your counseling sessions?"

The Reverend smiled slightly. "We just play darts, Tami."

"I _am_ angry with him, though," she said. She didn't want to lose Eric's friendship, but she was also questioning its value. "I think he knew for a long time that Mo was cheating on me. If he'd been a real friend, like I thought he was, he would have told me. But I guess he's Mo's friend, not mine."

"I don't get the impression that Eric is particularly fond of Mo."

"It doesn't matter if he's _fond_ of him. The team comes before everything."

"Tami…" Her father swirled his pint of beer on the table. "That's a world you don't understand. But I think Eric is a kid with a conscience. He's a kid who tries to do the right thing, but he has to do it within the confines of his world."

"I don't even know what that means."

"If he went about telling his teammate's girlfriends that he suspected his teammates were cheating on them, how do you think that would affect his acceptance by the team?"

"Right. Exactly. That's why it was stupid for me to think I could be friends with _anyone_ on the team. And even stupider to date a football player."

"It's not stupid to be friends with Eric, Tami. But if you're going to _be_ a friend yourself, then you're going to have to put yourself in his shoes and try to see things from his perspective."

Tami twirled her straw in her drink, creating a choppy sea of pinkish-red. "I guess you're right," she said. "You usually are."

Her father nodded to the T.V., because the game was about to restart after the half.

A man at the bar shouted, "Come on, Taylor! Get your head in the damn game!"

The first announcer's voice boomed from the television: _The Tigers have the ball._ _And there's the snap. Taylor's looking for an opening._

 _And he's got one, too,_ the second announcer said, _in Joaquin "Jack" Hernandez_.

 _Clear as daylight, Jimmy. I don't know what he's looking for._

A chorus of groans went up from the bar. Eric had just been sacked.

 _I don't know what is going on with Eric Taylor this afternoon_ , the announcer said _, but he has been distracted almost this entire game._

 _And he delivered a solid performance all season, too, didn't he, Donnie?_

 _That's right, Jimmy. He almost immediately replaced starting quarter back Morris McArnold when he came on the Tigers. And he took his last team, the Sam Houston Haws, all the way to a State Championship victory._

 _But look at him out there on that field this evening, Donnie. He's a mess._

 _He's really let his team down today._

 _I'll say. And Tigers' head Coach Colton Tanner is not happy about that._

 _You said it, Jimmy. He's hopping mad over there on the sidelines._

Tami's eyes were fixed to the screen as Coach Tanner put his hands in a T gesture and the players trotted over to the sidelines. Coach put a hand on the top of Eric's helmet, pushed down, yelled something in his face, and made a _come here_ gesture towards the bench.

Tami looked away from the television and caught her father's eye. "This is my fault," she said. "I said such awful things to him."

"This is _not_ your fault," her father insisted.

 _Looks like he's going to take out Eric Taylor and put in Morris McArnold, and I can't blame him for the decision. McArnold doesn't have nearly the record Taylor does, but given the first string's second-rate performance this evening, what else is there to do?_

Mo trotted up to the coach with a grin on his face. Coach Tanner spoke to him, and Mo nodded and situated his helmet on his head. The camera had momentarily panned away to the opposing team when the announcer shouted, _Whoa, they're butting helmets!_

The camera panned backed to the Tigers' sideline just as Eric and Mo were being pulled apart by two assistant coaches. Eric violently unlatched his helmet and yanked it from his head, while Coach Tanner was yelling at them both. Eric shouted something at Mo and then stomped off to the bench. Coach Tanner slapped Mo against the shoulder, and the second-string quarterback jogged onto the field.

 _What do you suppose that was about?_

 _I don't know, Jimmy. There's a lot of testosterone out there on that field today. McArnold may have been feeling displaced much of this season, and I wouldn't be surprised if he just said something negative about Taylor's poor performance out there._

 _Perhaps, Donnie. Then again, that tussle could have been over a girl for all we know._

It was the Reverend who caught Tami's eye this time. Her stomach rolled like it did when she'd eaten too many eggs. "I don't want to stay here," she said.

Her father took a long drought of his beer and set it down on the table, the suds rimming the bottom of the glass. He pulled out his wallet and threw some money down.

"Leaving already?" the bartender asked them when they were halfway to the door.

"Forgot about a church thing I have to attend to," the Reverend replied, and he quickly got Tami in the car.


	20. Winners and Losers

They didn't turn on the radio right away when they got home, but when they finally did, the final score was Tigers 13, Pirates 7, and the announcers were chattering about Mo McArnold's unexpectedly spectacular performance in the second half of the game.

 _Now, the defense carried this game for the Tigers, Jimmy, so let's not fail to credit them. The Pirates are known for their stellar offense, and the Tigers got in a lot of great stops today. But without Morris McArnold, the Tigers would never have gotten past that initial seven point deficiency. God knows Taylor wasn't throwing any touchdown passes during the first half of the game. Coach Tanner had a powerful second string in McArnold, and one wonders now why he didn't play him more often throughout the season._

Tami hated that she could be in such misery, while her cheating boyfriend was being lauded.

 _Taylor saw nothing but the bench for the entire last half of that game_ , the announcer was saying. _And rightly so. Lucky for the Tigers, McArnold picked up his slack. I bet Morris McArnold's parents are proud of him today!_

 _And his girlfriend, Jimmy, assuming he has one._

 _Well, if he doesn't, he's going to have plenty after this game!_

Tami switched off the radio, twirling the knob violently enough that it broke off in her hand.

[*]

Mo called that night form the hotel, after the game, but Tami's father answered the living room phone. He was sitting in the arm chair, as rigid as the wooden floor boards beneath his feet, as he told Mo, "Let me see if she's available." He mouthed _Mo_ , and Tami, who was curled in a blanket on the couch, half watching mindless television, shook her head.

"Tami has been very ill, Mo," her father said, "and she's resting. May I take a message?"

[*]

Tami thought a great deal that night about how she was going to break up with Mo. She had a hundred scenarios in her mind, each more dramatic than the last, and yet none was dramatic enough to satisfy.

After all of her many break-up fantasies, she decided she would simply end the relationship over the phone with a forced calmness.

"I'm going to be the better person," she told Kimberley, who called her Saturday morning to check after her health and finally learned the real reason Tami had missed State. "I'm not going to let him see me break down. If he wants Anita, then he can have her, but I'm not going to go all crazy on him so that he congratulates himself when I walk away."

"Are you going to do it in person?"

"No. I'll probably end up strangling him if I do," she said.

"Tami, I am _so_ sorry. So very sorry."

"Don't tell Jack any of this, if you talk to him before I talk to Mo."

"I won't."

"I guess Eric hasn't told him anything yet," Tami said, "or Jack would have told you."

"Eric knows?"

"He was the first person I saw after I found out. That's why he was hugging me. I was a mess."

"Well, Eric's as silent as the grave," Kimberley told her. "You don't have to worry about him."

That was true, Tami thought, and that was her one relief when she considered that she had told him about Boone.

[*]

Mo called Tami about an hour after the team bus got home from Abilene on Saturday afternoon. When she answered the kitchen wall phone, he launched right in: "You feeling better? You ready to party tonight, gorgeous? Did you listen to the game? Did you hear how well I did? I was on fire out there, baby! Fire!"

"I listened," Tami said. She breathed in and out once, slowly, through her nostrils, in an effort to calm the rage that was welling up within.

"Well, what did you think?"

"I think you probably already celebrated by screwing Anita Nisbeth, you two-timing, ungrateful, useless piece of shit."

That was _not_ how she had originally planned the conversation to go.

At first Mo pretended to be shocked by the accusation, which he called "totally unfounded. Crazy. Ridiculous. Why would I want Anita when I have you?"

"I wondered the same thing." Then she told him what she'd seen.

"That could have been anyone. You can't see the second flight from there. You just saw some guy in uniform pants. Hell, it was probably Taylor. And you told me yourself that Anita offered him the best blow job of his life."

"It wasn't Eric. I saw Eric on the practice field. And I recognized your voice, Mo. I know that groan. Do you know how many times I've heard that in your bed, giving myself to you, while all the while, you were getting it on the side!"

When continuing to deny it clearly wasn't going to work, Mo switched tracks and began to grovel, claiming Anita came onto him so hard, and he tried, really tried, to push her off, but in a moment of weakness…."It was just the one time. Just the one time, baby. I swear it will never, ever happen again. I love you, Tami. I don't want to lose you. Please forgive me."

"I know it didn't happen just the one time," she said. "I heard what you said. I'm sure you've been sleeping with her for a while. But even if it _had_ just happened the one time, that would be enough!"

He groveled some more, and when it was clear that wasn't going to work, his repentance morphed to accusation. "Don't think I don't know about you and Eric Taylor. Don't think I don't know you've practically been dating him behind my back!"

"What are you talking about, Mo? Dating him?"

"I know Eric's been calling you up behind my back, following you around like a love-struck puppy. Tony saw y'all. He saw y'all walking along Main Street at night, holding hands. And then he saw y'all hugging in the parking lot!"

"We were _not_ holding hands. And he was hugging me because I was wailing because I just saw you in the stairwell with Anita!"

"Aha! So you admit it!" Mo said in his gotcha voice. "You guys _have_ been seeing each other!"

"Eric's walked me home from the coffee shop in the evening a few times. We've talked. That's it."

"Okay, so we've both done some things we regret. It was a mistake. I'm sorry. You're sorry. Let's put it behind us."

"Eric was just _talking_ to me, Mo. Anita was doing something _very_ different with her mouth. Do you really fail to see the distinction?"

"Tami, baby, come on, give me a second chance. I'll make it up to you, I swear. You're my queen. Let me – "

"- Fuck you, Mo! And fuck the horse you rode in on! Don't ever call me again!" Tami slammed down the phone. It rattled in the cradle against the wall.

When she turned, she discovered her mother standing in the kitchen, a look of complete shock across her face. Mrs. Hayes blinked twice, and then swallowed. She took in a breath, and exhaled it. "Tami," she said, and Tami braced herself for a lecture on language, on how good Christian girls did not swear, not ever, and _especially_ not with the f word.

"Tami," her mother repeated, "You can do a thousand times better than Mo McArnold. Fuck him. And fuck the horse he rode in on."


	21. Understanding

Tami didn't have a chance to apologize to Eric at church on Sunday, because only his mother was there. Reverend Hayes shook her hand in the church doorway and said, "It's good to see you, Janet. Where is the rest of your family today?"

"Eric's a little mortified about the game," Mrs. Taylor told him. "He didn't want to face anybody today, so I let him skip church."

"So he's home with Mr. Taylor?" Tami asked. She hoped he wasn't getting chewed out all morning by his father.

"No. My husband left this morning to drive to Midland. He's meeting with a man who might want to buy Taylor's this summer, if the bar has met certain financial benchmarks by then."

"He's already thinking of selling it?" the Reverend asked, sounding a bit alarmed. Tami thought perhaps he was afraid that his favorite hangout might undergo a negative transformation in different hands.

"I want to move closer to my daughter in Dallas when Eric goes away to college," Mrs. Taylor said.

"And how is John handling Eric getting benched?" the Reverend asked.

"Well, you know," Mrs. Taylor said. "He can be a bit hard on Eric."

A bit hard? Tami thought. A _bit_?

"But right now," Mrs. Taylor continued, "no one's harder on Eric than Eric himself."

[*]

Eric wasn't in school on Monday. Tami supposed he'd played sick so he wouldn't have to see Mo lifted on shoulders and carried through the halls. She didn't want to see it either. She looked away.

Rumors of Mo and Tami's break-up drifted like ghostly voices through the school. Some people were saying Mo cheated with Anita, others that Tami cheated with Eric. Tami fantasized about slapping both Mo and Anita across the face, or somehow humiliating them in front of the entire school, but she didn't do it. She chose avoidance instead. During her 2nd period P.E. class, she ran on the far outside of the track, away from the chattering cheerleaders. All day, she used the girls' bathroom in the freshman/sophomore wing. She skipped lunch and locked herself in a bathroom stall for an afternoon cry. She skipped 4th period English, too, because she shared that class with Mo. It was the first class she had skipped since her sophomore year, but this time she didn't go off campus to hang with older friends. She just slunk off to the school library and read the assigned poetry selections, or tried to, but the one by Edna St. Vincet Milay made her choke:

 _I know what my heart is like_ _  
Since your love died:  
It is like a hollow ledge  
Holding a little pool  
Left there by the tide,  
A little tepid pool,  
Drying inward from the edge._

After she read that, Tami closed the book and put her head down on top of it. She wished with all her might that she could run backward through time to that day when Mo first asked her out and say, "Sorry, but I don't date football players."

[*]

Tami's father didn't expect her at work on Monday afternoon, which was good, because after school she secretly drove twenty miles to the Planned Parenthood clinic in Dillon, where she asked to be tested for STDs.

Later, when she parked her car on the street in front of the parsonage, and got out and opened the front door, she heard music drifting from her sister's room – a song that had been popular this past year by a British band called Naked Eyes. The lyrics assaulted her ears:

 _You made me promises, promises  
Knowing I'd believe  
Promises, promises  
You knew you'd never keep_

She shut the front door. Why was the world conspiring to constantly remind her of Mo's betrayal?

Shelley knew by now that Tami had broken up with Mo, but Tami's little sister hadn't had much to say about the fact other than, "You'll get over him. He's not that hot anyway."

Tami now walked down Main Street. She needed the air, and the movement. She needed to get away from Shelley and that song. And maybe, just maybe, she needed to peek in the coffee shop to see if Eric was there.

He was, already putting up the last chair, even though it was only 6:49. She walked in, turned the sign to closed, and locked the door.

He looked at her warily.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"I'm too busy to talk," he said. "You know, because I've got to get a blow job from Anita in the back room later."

"I'm so very sorry I said that." Tami walked up to the table where he stood. "I wasn't in my right mind. I took my anger out on you, and I'm sorry." She took one of the chairs off, flipped it over, and sat in it.

He just stood there. She was afraid he was going to walk away, but then he took the opposite chair and did the same. "Of course," he said, "not even Anita would give me a blow job now, the way I played at State."

"I'm sorry if what I said distracted you."

"I _should_ have been able to focus, no matter what was on my mind. I trained all season for that moment. As my dad pointed out, Mark Garrity's grandma died Wednesday, and _he_ was still focused. But I wasn't. I don't know. Seeing you _that_ hurt…I was worried about you."

"Why didn't you tell me you thought Mo was cheating?"

Eric sighed. "How? How was I supposed to tell you that without becoming a tattle tale in my team's eyes _and_ breaking your heart? I mean, how do you feel right now?"

"Like the ground just got ripped out from under me." Her voice quivered, and she choked back tears. "You still should have told me. I was…" She lowered his voice to a whisper. "I was having sex with him. Do you know how many guys Anita's been with?"

"Didn't y'all use – "

"I went on the pill when we started...you know."

"Oh."

"And we were going _steady_. And he was a virgin the first time we did it. Unless he lied about that too." Of course, _she_ had lied about that.

"Oh."

"He knows Anita's been all over, so hopefully he used condoms with her. But I got myself tested this morning just in case. You should have told me he was cheating! I thought you were my friend!"

"I _am_ your friend, Tami. I _hate_ seeing you like this."

"How long do you think he was cheating with her?" When Eric tightened his jaw and looked toward the door, she said, "I have to know! I have to know at what point our relationship became a complete lie. I have to know which parts of it were true and which weren't!"

"I can't tell you that." He looked back. His eyes were soft pools of sympathy. "I don't _know_. I don't know when it started. I just saw them flirt sometimes, and I suspected it. And I saw her get in his truck after practice a few times, starting sometime in October."

" _October_? They've been sleeping together since _October_?"

"I don't know. He could have just been giving her a ride home for all I know."

"But that's not what you _thought_ , was it?" Her eyes simmered with a jumbled stew of emotions.

"I didn't know for sure. It's not like he bragged about Anita in the locker room. He bragged about _you_."

She slammed her palm down on the table, which shook. "It doesn't make any sense!" she shouted. "Why would he do it? Why would he do it and keep saying he loves me?"

Eric had averted his eyes when she hit the table. He returned them to her now. "Probably because he _does_ love you. But just because he loves you doesn't mean he deserves you."

"If he loved me, he wouldn't have done that. He must have stopped loving me. Maybe he _never_ loved me."

"Love is different for guys. They can more easily separate the physical from…you know…the emotional."

"Can _you_?" she asked.

"I _don't_. Doesn't mean I _can't_."

She shook her head. "It was always lie. He _never_ loved me."

"I don't think that's true. But one thing's for certain. Mo's a jerk. And a fool. And you're going to be better off without him. You'll see that in time. And one more thing. I never lied to you. I'm not a liar. I don't lie for anyone."

"That's like six things," she said with a weak smile, and a laugh that was almost a sniffle.

He smiled back, and something in the tender sadness of his smile tugged so violently at her heart strings, that she began to cry. She covered her face with her hands. She knew it wouldn't prevent him from seeing her cry, but it would prevent her from seeing him see her.

Tami's face was still in her hands, though she was getting her tears under control, when she heard a clink against the table. She let her hands slide away from her face and saw that Eric had put a box of tissues on the table and, next to it, a white ceramic plate topped by a slice of strawberry cheesecake and a fork.

"It's good," he said. "It's the best dessert we've got."

[*]

When Eric walked her home later, it was uncomfortably quiet for half a block. He was looking at the shop windows, across the street, at the pavement, everywhere but at her.

At last, she spoke. "Did you skip school today because of the game?"

"Yeah," he said. "I let down my team. I just couldn't face those guys today. I don't want to face them tomorrow either."

"You got that team to State in the first place, Eric. The Tigers have never played State before. They know that."

"Well, thank God Mo pulled it off," he said. "That'll make it easier for me than if they _lost_ because of me."

"Don't thank Mo for anything," she muttered.

"I _didn't_ thank Mo. I thanked God."

Tami unbuttoned her coat. It had gone up to 68 today. Texas never seemed to know if it was fall, spring, or winter. "Everyone in this town thinks God cares a great deal about football," she said. "And maybe he does. Maybe that's what takes up all his time, because he sure doesn't seem to care about me."

"Well," Eric said softly. "Maybe he just has something better in store for you, and he couldn't give it to you until…you know."

"My mom always says, when God closes a door, he opens a window."

"Yeah," Eric said. "Exactly."

"But who wants to crawl through a window?"

"Depends what's on the other side, I guess."

It grew quiet between them again. Eric hadn't said anything about Boone, and his silence on the subject unnerved her. "Please don't tell anyone what I told you about Boone. I've never told _anyone_ that before."

"I won't."

She knew he wouldn't. That's not why she had said it. She wanted him to give some indication that he didn't think less of her for it.

"Have you ever done anything stupid like that?" she asked.

"Lisa was my first." He looked at his feet on the cobblestone as he walked, his hands in the pockets of a brown leather jacket. "Well…my only, I guess. So far."

"But not your first _everything_ , right?" Tami didn't know what she was hoping for. She didn't particularly want to hear he'd received oral sex from random girls at parties, but she also wanted some reason to believe he didn't judge her.

"She wasn't my first kiss. But other than that…pretty much."

"I wish I could turn back the clock and undo that night with Boone," she said. "But I can't. I was foolish. I made it into something it wasn't, and I had no reason to. He didn't even speak to me the next day in school."

Tami wanted Eric to say something, anything. _It's okay_. Or _I know you're not a slut_. Or _people make mistakes_. Something. But he just kept walking with his hands in his pockets.

"You ever do _anything_ you regret?" she asked.

It was several more footfalls before he spoke. "I had a good friend in elementary school. He was kind of a…a geek type. But we lived on the same street and we played in each other's houses all the time. From third to sixth grade. _Four years_ we were friends. We used to play a lot of Risk and Stratego and trade comics and stuff."

He didn't say anything else for a while, so she asked, "And you regret that?"

"No. I regret that when I got to junior high, and I got on the football team in 7th grade, and my teammates made fun of him…" Eric sighed. "I turned my back on him. And I didn't just turn my back on him. I made fun of him _with_ them." Tami glanced at Eric. He looked choked up. His teeth were gritted together, so his next words were slightly muffled. "I betrayed my best friend." He shook his head. "I was just trying to fit in, you know?" he said. "I guess that's what you were doing, at that party, huh? Trying to fit in?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, "that was definitely part of it."

"But you felt bad," he said softly, "and you never did anything like that again."

A great sense of relief flooded Tami. He _understood_.


	22. Welcome to the Enclave

Tuesday was another rough day of school, but if misery really loves company, Tami had some. Between classes, Eric walked with his head down in the halls, and people were whispering about the sacks and fumbles and incomplete passes as he hurried by. Once, a guy from the wrestling team shouted, "Hey, butter fingers! You almost lost us State!" Eric stopped, stood still in the hallway, and turned slowly to look him in the eye, but then he walked on without saying or doing anything.

Lunch was a special challenge, because Tami used to sit with Mo. Some of the other football players would join them, but it was only Mo she had wanted to be with. On Monday, she had skipped lunch. Today, she searched the cafeteria for someone else to sit with. Kimberley had a different lunch period, or she would have sought her out. As she scanned the tables, her eyes eventually fell on Jack and Eric, who were sitting at the end of a half empty table across from each other.

Jack was laughing at something Eric had said when she approached and asked quietly if they would mind her joining them. They both stood up, like she was a lady and this was some fancy restaurant, and that made her heart just a little lighter. They settled back onto the bench when she sat down.

Jack kept shooting her wary and sympathetic looks.

"You didn't get cast out from your table did you?" she asked Eric.

"I always eat with just Jack," he said.

"You guys don't eat with one of the football enclaves?" There were three groups of football players that sat together during B lunch in different parts of the cafeteria. Each consisted of about six or seven players and their girlfriends.

" _Enclaves_?" Jack asked. He chuckled and shook his head. "No. I guess we're our own enclave."

Eric's face twitched with a smile that was sarcastic, weary, and amused all at once. "Welcome to the enclave," he said.

 **[*]**

Tami continued to have a hard time at school in the days that immediately followed the death of her relationship with Mo. English class was especially difficult. Fortunately, the teacher had already separated Mo and Tami's seats earlier in the year, putting Mo in the front and Tami in the back, because they were talking and flirting with each other too much in class.

During their 15 minute break, when she hung out with Kimberley, Tami told her friend she was never dating again.

"Don't say that. You know that's not true," Kimberley replied.

"Well I'm never dating a football player again," she insisted. "I should have listened to my father. They're the worst offenders."

"Honey, Jack's a football player. Eric's a football player."

"Well, there are exceptions to every rule, I guess," Tami conceded. Then she smiled and teased, "So when do you start catechism classes?"

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "I'm not converting for Jack."

"He's _already_ asked you to prom." It was only December, and the event was still four months away.

"Yeah, but not to the altar."

Tami laughed. The days were like that. Tears and then laugher, pain and then levity, pushing through…healing.

Lunch time with Jack and Eric helped. They were fun to sit with. They ribbed each other constantly, and Tami saw Eric smile often. She wasn't used to seeing this lighter side of him, and she liked it. What most surprised her was that he could be a bit of goofball. He had a gentle and somewhat cheesy sense of humor. Today, he was stealing Jack's fries every time Jack wasn't looking, and they were half gone before the wide receiver noticed.

"What on earth, Taylor?" Jack asked.

"It was Tami." Eric jerked a thumb in her direction.

"Yeah, right," Jack muttered.

"Seriously, man. I'm watching my figure." Eric rubbed his stomach.

Tami heard Mo's loud laugh from three tables over. What an obnoxious laugh he had. Why had she never noticed that before? She looked over and saw him with his crew of players. "Why don't I ever see Mo with Anita?" she asked. "I mean, we're officially over. He can bring it out in the open now."

"He doesn't want to date Anita," Jack said. "Anita's not the kind of girl you take home to your mother."

Almost as if he sensed they were talking about him, Mo stood up from his table and meandered over. "Hey, Tami," he said. "How's it hanging?"

"Not over Anita's Nesbith's mouth," she said.

Jack swallowed a snort and looked down at the table.

Mo shook his head. "Can we just put that behind us and be friends?"

"No," Tami said. "I don't make friends with people who lie to me."

Mo sighed. He looked at Eric. "Lunching with my girlfriend now are you?"

"I am _not_ your girlfriend anymore, Mo," Tami told him.

"All part of your long-term plan, huh?" Mo asked him. "To steal her from me."

Eric was gripping his plastic fork so tightly it snapped in his hand.

"Mo, that is ridiculous," Tami said. "Eric and I have never been more than friends. We will never be more than friends. So you can leave him alone and go on back to your table now."

Eric shifted on the cafeteria bench. He looked upset, and Tami assumed he was upset by Mo's baseless accusations.

Mo pointed a finger at Eric. "Tami may be done with me, but the code still applies."

Eric dropped the broken fork to the table. "What code?"

"We don't date each other's ex-girlfriends," Mo insisted.

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked. "That's not a part of any code. Johnny's dating Tony's ex."

"Yeah, and he got a penalty for it, too," Mo said. He pointed from his eyes to Eric's eyes. "I'm watching you, Taylor."

"Well you can watch from over there!" Tami pointed to his table.

Mo seemed like he was going to leave, but then he turned back. "Hey, Eric, did you hear about my scholarship offer?" he asked. "Houston. Full ride. They were really impressed by my performance at State."

"Swell," Eric told him.

"It is swell." Mo insisted. "Super swell."

"Swellicious," Jack said, and then put a hand over his mouth to hide his snickering.

Mo glared at him. "See y'all around," he told them, and finally walked back to his own table.

Jack stopped snickering, looked at Eric, and said, "At least the season is over and you only have one class with him."

"Houston," Eric muttered.

Jack shook his head. "Don't let it bother you, man! I mean, you're going to A&M! That's a way better team."

"Not any more. When they saw how badly I played at State, they rescinded their offer."

"They can't do that!" Tami shouted, and heads turned in their direction. Mo, who had just sat down again, bent forward over the table to investigate.

The three of them were silent long enough that everyone returned to their own business. When they had, Tami whispered, "What?"

"It was never _official_ ," Eric said. "They were just _talking_ to me. The official offer was supposed to come this week. But now they think I'm a loose cannon. They say I can try out for the team, as a walk-on, and I'll probably make it, but they aren't gambling any scholarship money on me."

"I'm so sorry." Tami felt responsible, and she wished she could turn back the clock and not have walked across the parking lot, not have said the things she said, not have allowed Eric to see her in that broken state. "What are you going to do?"

"TMU is still offering me a full scholarship."

Tami shook her head. "T what?"

"Texas Methodist University. It's a private school near Austin. They're Division II."

Division II? That was small potatoes for a player of Eric's stature. Even Mo was playing for a Division I team now. "Eric, I'm so sorry. I know I distracted you before that game, and I'm so - "

"- It's not your fault!" he insisted. "And maybe it's a blessing in disguise."

"How so?" Jack asked. He was one of the three seniors on the team to receive a scholarship to a Division I college himself - Oklahoma State. "I bet your dad's pissed off."

"He is, but I'm not. TMU actually has coaching-related classes. It's a concentration you can take, like a minor almost. And I'll probably be one of the better players on that team. I'll get a good amount of field time, and I'm going to have the time of my life playing. At A&M, hell, they've already got a great quarterback who's only a sophomore. I'd just be on the bench the first two years. Honestly, TMU's a great match for me."

"Is it a good school?" Tami asked. "Academically?"

"Yeah. Top tier."

"Oh. So I probably wouldn't get in then."

"You might," Eric said. "What were your SATs?"

"Above average, but nothing exceptional. And my GPA, even as well as I've done the last two years …" She shook her head.

Jack stood with his tray and nodded to them. "I gotta get going," he said. "I need to see a man about a dog."

Eric nodded back to him, and then returned his attention to Tami. "Yeah, but if they see it was just one year that wrecked you, and you get good recommendations, and you write a good essay…."

"That's not how college admissions work," she said. "If I could change it, I would. If I were a dean of admissions, it would be more about the individuals than the numbers. But I'm not."

"Have you decided what you want to do?"

She shrugged. "I think I might want to major in psychology. Or counseling, if the school I go to has that program."

"Follow in your father's footsteps?"

"Maybe," she said, "though minus the pastoring a church part. I think I'll double in education. Or maybe administration."

Mo's laugh drifted to their table. Tami glanced in his direction, and then down at the table.

"You okay?" Eric asked. "You doing okay?"

"No," she admitted.

"Did you, uh…get the results of… uh… that _test_?"

"I'm clean, no thanks to Mo."

His jaw tightened. "I want to punch him in the face."

"Please refrain."

"Why? You want to do it first?" he asked.

"I don't want you to lose your scholarship over some character clause. And I really need to forgive him."

"But _not_ reconcile, right?"

"No. There's no way we're _ever_ dating again."

"Good." Eric nodded.

"There's no way I'm dating _anyone_ for the rest of the year."

"Aw, don't say that," Eric insisted. "Nah, don't say that."

"I'm saying it. Mark my word. Write it down right now. Tami Hayes will not date anyone for the rest of her senior year."

"What about prom in April?"

"I'll go by myself. Or with a group of girlfriends."

"You could go with me," he suggested. "And Jack," he said quickly. "And Kimberley. We're you're friends."

"You said you didn't want to spend a bunch of money and go to the prom with some girl you're not serious about." His lips parted, but before he could reply, she continued, "You'll most likely have a girlfriend by then anyway."

The bell rang, and Tami grabbed her tray.


	23. Laughter and Light

On Sunday after church, Tami left her doorway duties and came to stand by Eric at the fellowship table. "The muffins are really good," she said. "Mrs. Williams makes them from scratch."

"I know. I already ate two," Eric confessed. He licked a crumb off his thumb and then picked up a Styrofoam cup. "Is my dad being an ass to your father again? Telling him how to write his own sermons?"

"No. He's pretending to read the bulletin board while your mom talks to Mrs. Tidwell. He's kind of anti-social, isn't he?"

Eric filled his coffee cup and blew into it. The steam lifted and curled. He was being crowded by a pair of children hunting for the biggest cookie, and he jerked his head toward the covered walkway that separated the sanctuary from the offices and classroom wing. They went out there and sat on the brick ledge of a window. It was cold. There was no heat in this part of the church.

"My mom says it's because he was never really a kid," Eric said. "And then I reminded her that my father tried to make sure I never really was either." He shrugged. "But my Mom always played with me."

"Your dad never did?"

Eric extended his coffee cup to her. She took it to warm her hands.

"He threw the ball around with me. He played board games with me. But I wouldn't say he was ever _playful_ about any of it. There was always some instructional goal to it with him. It was work." He reached for the coffee cup, took a small sip, and then handed it back to her. "I don't want to be like that with my kids, if I ever have any. I'm getting down on the floor with them. There are going to be tickle fests."

Tami smiled. Two months ago, she would not have been able to picture Eric as a playful father, but she could much better imagine the scenario now. "How mad is he that you're not going to A&M?"

"He thinks I should still go, even though they're not giving me a scholarship. I can get in on academics, and they'll probably take me on the team as a walk-on. He thinks if I do that, I can prove myself, and eventually I'll be noticed and get a lot of play time. And then some NFL scout will see me. He still thinks I can make it to the NFL, but some of these college guys…" He shook his head. "As good as I am, I just can't hold a candle to them. Even if I did by some fluke make the draft, I'd probably be cut the first time they pared down the roster."

Eric's practicality surprised Tami. Every Texas high school football player's dream was to make it to the NFL, and half of them seemed to imagine they could, even some of the second string players.

"But he says he'll pay for the tuition, room, and board at A&M, all four years, if I got there instead of TMU."

"He has _that_ much money?" Tami asked.

"Not now. But he'd sell the bar. He expects it to be worth one and a half times what he paid for it by June. Instead of buying a new bar with the proceeds, like he usually does, he'd use that money to put me through school. Then he'd just go back to working in management again."

"Wow."

Eric sighed. "And I guess I should feel that's very generous of him, but I just feel like he's trying to control me. I was upset A&M didn't end up giving me a scholarship, but then the more I tried to talk myself into TMU, the more I succeeded. I _want_ to go there now. I don't want to go to A &M. And I'm afraid to tell him that."

"You've got to tell him," Tami insisted. "This is your choice. Not his."

"I know. But I've been putting off that confrontation."

The door to the hallway opened on the foyer side, and Mr. Taylor walked in. He looked at Tami suspiciously. "We need to get going, Eric," he said. "Your mother wants to go to lunch."

Eric leaned forward and glanced through the glass door. "Looks like she's still talking to someone."

"She wants to go," Mr. Taylor said. "Come along."

Eric rose, but not without first whispering to Tami, " _He_ wants to go."

Mr. Taylor nodded in Tami's direction, and then held open the door for Eric.

[*]

Tami grabbed Eric's fruit cup off his tray, which he hadn't touched, and opened it. Jack had left lunch a little early to see one of his teachers for some extra help in math. He must be really struggling, Tami thought, because he'd left lunch early three days this week.

"Help yourself, why don't you?" Eric asked.

"This is my payment…" Tami dipped in her spoon, "…for helping you figure out who you're going to date." She took a bite and swallowed. "I have some ideas."

"Do you?" he asked. "Of course you do."

"Kim Fischer. She's on the honor roll, so your dad will be pleased. She's athletic – plays girls' basketball. And she just broke up with Billy Mack."

"She's too tall. I can't date a girl who's taller than me."

"Sarah O'Connor."

"Too Irish."

Tami laughed. "What?"

"Sorry, it's just a criteria I have."

"You don't like red heads?" she asked.

He smiled. "Maybe a touch of red."

"Dolly Tanner," she suggested.

"Too short. I can't date a girl who's more than five inches shorter than me."

"So 5'8 is your cut off then? About my height?"

He nodded, and his lips curved into that smile she'd been noticing more and more, the one that looked like he was laughing at this own private joke.

"Then Sarah Hamilton," she suggested.

"Her breasts are too big."

"That has never before been said in the history of teenage boys."

"I like…uh…medium-large."

"Do you?" Tami asked, chuckling. "Then Sally Hamilton. Her sister."

"Aren't they twins?"

Tami pointed her spoon at him. "Oh, I know! Brenda Winthrop."

"She's in my Trig class. She talks way too much."

Tami dropped the cup and spoon onto the tray and pushed it aside. "You're picky. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"Well," he replied, "while beggars can't be choosers, kings can. And I have a lot to offer a girl."

She laughed. "Yeah. Let me hear the list."

"I drive a stunning chariot, for one. It's only ten years old, and there's only a little bit of duct tape on the rearview mirror."

Tami's eyes twinkled with merriment.

"And I'm an excellent dancer, as you yourself observed at Homecoming."

Tami chuckled.

"And I warmed the bench very nicely during the State Championship."

"What else?"

"Uh…Hmmmm…." He looked up. He put a finger on his chin. "I can't think of anything else at the moment."

"How about you're kind and responsible and loyal?"

"Nah, girl's don't care about that," he said, just as the bell rang. He stood up. "But tell 'em I can bench press 175% of my weight." He winked, she laughed, and they both dumped their trays and headed to class.

[*]

School soon let out for winter break. By December 24th, Tami wasn't crying herself to sleep anymore. She'd even let go of at least 75% of her anger at Mo. Well, maybe 62%.

That night, toward the end of the Christmas Eve service, the church was shrouded in darkness, and the congregants shared the light from their candles from person to person. Tami lit her candle on her sister's, and, being the last person in the front pew, turned to face the pew behind hers.

Eric stood there, dressed in his dark black suit and red tie. His family usually sat farther back, but because the Christmas Eve service was always so crowded, the Reverend had urged the "regulars" to sit forward.

Tami extended her flame to Eric. He bowed his candle to hers, and his wick caught, shivered, and then burst out against the darkness. In the slow dance of the flame she'd shared with him, his face was illuminated. He was smiling at her, and she smiled back.

Tami turned forward again when the congregation began singing "Silent Night." As the soft strains of the familiar song drifted all the way to the tippy top of the vaulted ceiling, she felt a powerful sense of peace wash over her.

For a moment, she wondered why she had ever cried over Mo McArnold at all.


	24. Phone Chat

Eric's family left at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning to visit his sister in Dallas. They weren't coming back until the 31st.

Tami was thrilled to get her car on Christmas, a used, four-door, silver 1979 Pontiac Sunbird, which her work at the church office had in part paid for. The rest, including the first two months of insurance, was a gift from her parents. She wished she could show it to Eric. Tami was surprised to discover how much she missed talking with him. Between their cafeteria lunches, their chats in the covered hallway of the church, and their walks home from the coffee shop, they'd been spending quite a bit of time together. Tami was therefore pleased when he called on December 29th to wish her a belated Merry Christmas. She'd never actually given him her phone number and assumed he got it from the church directory.

"How's the family time going?" she asked after she had swung herself up to sit on the kitchen counter nearest where the phone was located.

"Well, it started with my Dad frowning a lot when he found out that Kathleen is living with her fiancé."

"Yeah, well," Tami said, "my Dad would frown on that too."

"They're _engaged_."

"Yeah, but he'd still frown. He won't perform a marriage ceremony for two people who are shacking up."

"What?" Eric asked. "That doesn't sound like your dad. He's not at all judgmental."

"I think I know my own father, Eric. He wouldn't marry them unless they agreed to stop living together before the wedding."

"You're _kidding_."

"He's a minister," Tami said. "What do you expect?"

"Well, my dad insisted that he and my mom stay at a hotel because of it, but I'm in the guest bedroom at Kathleen and Ian's apartment. Which is nice, because I get a break from my dad."

"Did you tell him about your decision to go to TMU yet?"

"Yeah. I did it over Christmas dinner, you know, just for some holiday excitement. And because I knew he wouldn't go completely ballistic on me with Kathleen's fiancé sitting right there."

"Did he go _partially_ ballistic?" Tami asked.

"He looked really angry. And then my mom put a hand on his wrist. And then he didn't say anything for about five minutes, when he said something like – 'I think you're making a big mistake. On a team like the Aggies, you can catch the eye of the NFL. TMU's team will never be taken seriously. Blah blah bah.' So I just, as calmly as I could, told him I didn't think I was going pro any way, and I re-emphasized my plan to become a coach."

"Then what did he say?"

"Nothing. He just ate in silence, and everyone else started talking again. And then later that night, before my folks left to go back to their hotel, he asked me out on the balcony."

"Uh oh. Did he rip into you?" Tami asked.

"Not exactly. He said he thinks I'd be throwing away my talent at TMU, and that I'm taking the easy route by trying to become a coach instead of a professional football player. But if I'm determined to do it, then he's not going to try to talk me out of it, and he'll support me in my new goal."

"Well that wasn't quite what you expected."

"No. But then he said – 'What's your fifteen year plan for working your way up to a head coaching position at a Division I college?' And I said I'd be grateful to be a head coach of a 5A _high school_ by then."

Tami picked up an apple from a bowl of fruit on the counter and began twisting the stem. "And what did he say?"

"He said my generation is lazy and unambitious. Then he said – 'Son, I left home at fifteen with nothing but the shirt on my back, and in less than fifteen years I had produced two children and bought my first bar.'"

"Oh Good Lord."

"I didn't remind him that he didn't actually _produce_ Kathleen. I didn't think that would be a good idea."

The stem snapped in Tami's hand. "No, I guess not." She set the apple down. "Do you feel better though? Now that that whole conversation is out of the way?"

"I do. Did you send in your application for TMU?"

"Yeah, but I looked into the average GPA for admissions…and I'm not getting in there."

"You don't know that," he insisted.

"I have a much better chance at UNT or UT-Dallas." She didn't want to talk about her college prospects. "What are you doing for New Year's Eve? You'll be back by then, right?"

"Yeah. Jack and Kimberly are going to Billy Mack's party. You want me to pick you up and take you?"

Given his phrasing, Tami assumed he was offering her a favor – a ride. It didn't even occur to her that he might be suggesting a date. "No. Mo's going to be there."

"You can't let him dictate your social life."

"Kimberley told me he's dating Sue Beth now. I don't want to see them together."

"Sue Beth?"

"Yeah. I guess she's better _girlfriend material_ than Anita, though he's probably still screwing Anita on the side. I kind of feel sorry for Sue Beth, though. She's all right for a cheerleader."

"Well," Eric said, "she walked into that with her eyes open. Everyone knows he cheated on you."

"You don't have to tell me that." She sighed. "I don't get Sue Beth. Does she think she's special and it won't happen to her?"

"Maybe. Or maybe she doesn't care. Some girlfriends of guys on the team just choose to ignore it when their boyfriends cheat. Mo might even have _expected_ you to ignore it if and when you found out."

"Then he didn't know me at all." The coils of the telephone cord giggled as she flicked it. "You wouldn't expect a girl to ignore it, would you?"

"I wouldn't cheat in the first place."

"How can you be a part of that culture and not adopt that culture?" she asked him.

"What culture?"

"Football culture. I mean…Mo used to be different. If he'd never been on the team, and instead stayed in the church choir, I wonder…I don't know. I just wonder."

"There's good and bad to it, Tami, just like with anything. I try to adopt the virtues and not the vices. And I'm not the only one who does. You have to be a part of the team. You have to spend a lot of time together on and off the field. But even within a team, a good part of the time, you can choose the company you keep."

"And you chose Jack."

"Yeah," Eric said, "and some other guys."

"And Mo chose that big oaf Tony."

"Yeah," Eric said. "And some other guys."

"How could I not see it?" she asked. "How could I not see how much he was changing?"

"Because you didn't _want_ to see it. You're a good person, so you see the good in people."

"Or I'm just an idiot."

"Nah," he said softly. There were voices in the background, a guy and then a girl. She could hear the girl saying, _Get off the phone. I'm paying for that call._

Tami was suddenly reminded that Dallas would be long-distance, and probably fifteen cents a minute at this hour. Given that minimum wage was $3.35 an hour, this would be one expensive call. "Do you have to go?"

"We're getting ready to meet my folks for dinner."

"Well, have a good time. And, Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for calling. You're a good friend."

"A'ight."

Tami thought she heard irritation in his voice, but perhaps she was imagining it, because she didn't think he should be irritated to receive a compliment.

"Bye now," he said.

"Bye."

As Tami was sliding off the kitchen counter, Shelley walked in. "Who was that on the phone?" she asked.

"Eric Taylor," Tami answered as she opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice.

"The loser who almost lost us State?"

Tami grabbed a glass down from the cupboard. "Eric is _not_ a loser. And didn't you once say you thought he was totally hot?"

Shelley plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl and dusted it against her t-shirt. "Well, he _is_ good-looking," Shelley admitted. "In an old school Cary Grant kind of way. If you like that sort of thing. Why, do _you_ want him? Because if you do, I'll let you have him."

Tami laughed. "That's funny. You'll _let_ me have him." She laughed again. She shook her head and sipped her orange juice.

"Hey, if I _was_ interested in Eric Taylor, you wouldn't stand a chance," Shelley assured her. "But who wants to date the guy who almost lost us State?"

"Lots of girls, I'm sure," Tami said.

" _You?_ " Shelley asked.

"I don't want to date _anyone_ for a long time. I'm done with relationships for the rest of high school. I'm focusing on this prize." Tami waved a hand over herself. "And Eric and I are just friends. But, even so, you should really stick to boys your own age." She chuckled and left the kitchen, orange juice in hand, shaking her head.


	25. Surprised

Tami spent a quiet New Year's Eve at home with her family, avoiding Billy Mack's party and therefore Mo. She played Scrabble with her father on the living room coffee table before the warm glow of the fireplace. They were joined by a sulking Shelley, who had been invited to a party hosted by a sophomore named Mason Davenport. What little the Reverend knew about the boys' parents had failed to meet with his approval, so Shelley was forbidden to attend.

When it was Shelley's turn to play a word, she spelled out _unfair_.

"Is there something Freudian about that selection?" the Reverend asked her.

"What-e-in?" Shelley asked.

"You know who Sigmund Freud is, sweet pea."

"He's the guy who thinks every man secretly wants to bang his own mother, right?"

"Well, that's a rather crass way of putting it," the Reverend told her. "You could be more ladylike, Shelley."

"Why? I'm never going to be allowed out of the house anyway."

"Mason's father is an alcoholic," the Reverend said.

"But Mason's not!" Shelley insisted. "Mason is the cutest, sweetest boy ever!"

"Sweet boys don't invite fourteen-year-old girls to parties in houses where their alcoholic fathers will be supplying them with booze, Shelley. I do wish you would have been capable of coming to such a judgment yourself."

"Tami got to party when she was my age!"

"Shelley!" Tami hissed.

"Is that what _I_ should do?" Shelley asked. "Sneak out of the house and do whatever I want, and then just be forgiven, and be the favorite daughter again?"

The Reverend pursed his lips.

Tami said, "What I did was stupid, Shell. It was stupid and bad for me. Daddy's just trying to look out for you so that you don't make the same mistakes I did. Because he loves you."

"I love _both_ my girls," the Reverend said.

"Both?" Mrs. Hayes entered the living room looking a little groggy from her after-dinner nap. "Why not all three?" She put a hand on the Reverend's shoulder.

He covered her hand with hers. " _All_ my girls," he said. "Shall we start chilling the sparkling cider?" Out of respect for the teetotaling ways of his wife, the Reverend never brought alcohol into the parsonage, even if he did imbibe weekly at Taylor's.

"Let's," Mrs. Hayes said. "And let's turn on the New Year's Eve show in New York. I do like that Dick Clark. Such a handsome fellow."

"Handsome?" the Reverend harrumphed. "Well your standards are rather low, aren't they?"

Mrs. Hayes kissed the top of his head. "Be grateful for that, dear," she said and ruffled his hair.

The Reverend looked at his daughters. "I'm a handsome fellow, don't you think?" he asked.

Tami played her next word off the "u" in Shelly's "unfair." It read, "dubious," and they all laughed.

[*]

On New Year's Day, Tami thought of calling Eric to find out how he was doing. His phone number wasn't in the church directory, however. She supposed his dad liked to remain unlisted. So instead, that evening, she went to the coffee shop forty minutes before closing. Eric had her decaf on the counter before she even reached it. She settled into a table to read and waited for the store to close.

She was lost in her book when the chair across from her made a "scuraaaahrunch" sound as it slid over the tile.

Eric plopped down. "Whatcha reading?" he asked.

She snapped the book shut, shoved it in her purse, and looked around. The shop was empty and the sign was turned, but Eric hadn't put the chairs up yet. Outside, the Christmas lights still twinkled. Tomorrow, the town would take them down, and Eric and Tami would return to school.

"Why did you hide that book so fast?" he asked. "Was it some kind of bodice ripper?"

"No," she said. "It's a _classic_."

He tilted his head to peer at her purse on the floor.

She pushed it under the table with her foot. "It's just _Gone with the Wind_."

He pulled himself straight up again. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

She chuckled. "How was Dallas?"

"Okay." He held up a finger. "Wait right here."

Puzzled, she watched him stand up and go behind the counter. He came back with a wrapped box and handed it to her. "Merry Christmas."

"That's sweet. But I didn't know we were exchanging gifts. I didn't get you anything."

"That's okay." He sat back down. "Open it."

"I see you wrapped it yourself." The tape was wildly visible, and the folding was uneven. He'd put a jaggedly cut out strip of green paper over a spot where the red paper hadn't quite reached to cover up the box.

"That sounds like something my father would say."

"No, he'd say," Tami mimicked Mr. Taylor's gruff voice, "Son, if you would just try a little harder, if you'd just drag yourself out of a bed a little earlier, you could wrap that present all the way around with one solid color."

Eric laughed. "That's a pretty good imitation. Now open it."

She tore off the paper bit by bit. There was a large shoe box inside. She was expecting a gag gift of some kind, maybe a box within a box and then nothing. So when she opened the lid, and saw what was inside, she gasped.

"Those are the ones, right?'

Nestled within the box were the beautiful cowgirl boots from the shop window, the one's right in the center of the lasso, the ones she'd told him, several weeks ago, that she desperately wanted but couldn't afford. Her hand was still on her mouth.

"I got your size from Kimberley."

Tami's hand slid from her face. "Eric, I can't accept these. These are far too expensive. I didn't get you anything."

"So? I don't need anything. It's a _gift_."

"Eric, no. You have to take them back. Get your money back. It's too much. How many hours did you have to work to get these?"

His expression was a mixture between disappointment, confusion, and anger. She hated that she'd done that to his face.

"I _really_ appreciate the thought," she assured him.

"Listen, if it's because it makes you feel indebted, I'm not asking for anything in return. I just wanted to make you feel beautiful, and happy, because you've been so upset about Mo. And if it makes you any more willing to keep them, I won half the money I spent on them in a poker game with Mo at Billy Mack's party last night."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Was Mo with Sue Beth? Was Anita there?"

"Tami, don't do that."

He was right. She had to stop doing that. She had to let go. "So Mo sucks at poker?"

He laughed. "Thanks a lot. Why not just assume I'm really good at it?"

"Because you don't have a good poker face. I can always tell when you're worried, or when you're irritated, or when you're happy. It's all in your eyes."

"You can't read me as well as you think you can," Eric said. "But I admit Mo _was_ pretty drunk, and that probably didn't hurt my chances."

"I thought Billy Mack wasn't going to have alcohol at the party."

"Well, Mark Garrity got his cousin Buddy to bring a keg all the way from Dillon again," Eric said. "But I laid off it this time."

"Buddy Garrity came to Billy Mack's party?" It was one thing for Buddy to have gone to his own cousin's party, since he was supposed to be watching Mark, but Billy Mack's? "Isn't he like…twenty-two?"

"Yeah. That guy clearly misses his high school glory days. He was going on and on about how he once won a State Championship on the Panthers. And when Billy Mack pointed out that the Panthers didn't even make it to play-offs this year, Buddy got a little pissy and left."

"Was Mo upset when he lost to you?"

"Oh, yeah, and he immediately challenged me to a game of Red Light, Green Light to recoup his honor. On the street outside the house. In the sleet."

"You turned him down, I presume."

"No, I didn't turn him down. I lost to him last time we played that. I had to beat him."

Tami shook her head. "Boys." Then, with a slight smile, " _Did_ you beat him?"

Eric's chest started to rumble as he laughed with closed lips. "You should have seen him, Tami, running drunk in the sleet, Tony yelling red light, and Mo just sliding on the slush, two feet, sprawled out on his ass."

"I kind of wish I'd gone now. What a maroon."

Eric nodded to the boots. "Try them on."

The embroidery on the boots felt fine to the touch beneath her fingertips as she traced the design, and she could smell the leather mingled with the aroma of coffee beans. She looked at the boots. She should make him take them back. It was too generous.

He leaned forward. "Try them on," he whispered.

She did. His eyes were fixed on the boots as she pulled up each zipper. He watched her as she walked around the shop.

"Do they fit?" he asked.

She came to a stop in front of him. "Perfectly. And you know what? I _am_ going to wear these boots you bought with some of Mo's money. And I'm going to walk down the halls of school tomorrow and strut right past him." She started singing, " _These boots were made for walking, and that's just what they'll do, and one of these days these boots will_ " Eric joined in on the " _walk all over you!_ "

They laughed.

"You probably shouldn't sing though," he warned her. "You sing about as well as I dance."


	26. Realization

The first day back at school after the winter break was a Wednesday. Tami wore her new cowgirl boots, though she didn't _actually_ tell Mo she was going to walk all over him. In fact, as usual, she generally avoided Mo, but she did notice him leaning against Sue Beth's locker between first and second period, his hand on the cheerleader's hip, making her giggle. And between fourth and fifth period, when Tami ran into Sue Beth in the bathroom, she might have, purely as a matter of kindness, offered her a bit of advice: "You know, Mo's just going to cheat on you, too."

"He's done with Anita," Sue Beth insisted. "He knew that was stupid. He figured it out. He's a great guy at heart, Tami. You shouldn't have thrown him aside so quickly for one mistake."

"One _mistake_?" asked Kimberley, who was also in the bathroom. "Yeah, I made a _mistake_ this morning. I forgot to lock the front door when I left for school. But I didn't trip and land on some guy's dick on my way here. Is that how Mo _mistakenly_ found his way into Anita?"

Sue Beth gasped.

Tami tried not to laugh as she followed Kimberley out the door, but she burst into gales of giggles once they were in the hall. "I can't believe _you_ said that!"

"Don't tell Jack," Kimberley pleaded. "He doesn't like a potty mouth on a girl." As they walked, Kimberley glanced down at Tami's feet. "Those are really gorgeous boots. I'm jealous. Who gave them to you?"

"You know who." Tami paused with Kimberley by her locker. "Eric said he asked you for my size."

"Quite the _gift_." Kimberley wiggled her eyebrows and then turned to enter her combination.

"Don't do that," Tami told her. "Don't say it like that. He and I are just friends. Mo's an idiot. Eric was never trying to seduce me away from him, we weren't dating behind his back, there has never been _anything_ like that going on between us."

Kimberley swung open the locker door and grabbed a book. "Maybe Eric wasn't trying to seduce you before, but uh…." She poked Tami's cowgirl boot with her own tennis shoe. "Come on, Tami. Those are I-want-to-take-you-to-bed boots."

"He said he wasn't expecting _anything_ in return."

"I'm sure he's not. He's not that kind of guy." The door to Kimberley's locker clanged shut. "But just because he's not _expecting_ something doesn't mean he's not _hoping_ for something."

"Eric doesn't like me that way," Tami insisted.

Kimberley slung her backpack over her shoulder. "You keep telling yourself that, Tami." She shook her head as she walked off to class.

[*]

During dinner, Tami was preoccupied, wondering if Kimberley was right about Eric's _hopes_.

"Cat got your tongue?" her father asked.

"Just thinking about an upcoming test," she lied.

"I got the lead in the spring musical!" Shelley announced. " _My Fair Lady_."

Their father clapped. "Well done, sweet pea. So that's your calling, is it? Are you going to take drama again next year? Or choir? Or both?"

"Neither," Shelley said. "I think I want to take art."

"Art?" Mrs. Hayes asked. "You've never shown any interest in art before."

"Why not stick with the drama?" the Reverend suggested. "You're doing so well. You just got the lead!"

"I bet I'd be good at art, though." Shelley reached for the bread. "And this is the last year Timmy Wilson is going to be in the spring musical. He's graduating. And I do _not_ want have to pretend to kiss Donnie Dougherty in _West Side Story_ next year."

[*]

On Thursday, at lunch, Tami set the shoe box with the cowgirl boots on the cafeteria table beside Eric. "Maybe you can still get your money back," she said. "I just wore them the one day."

Jack looked at the box, and then looked at Eric, and then looked at Tami. "I need to go get some math help," he said, shoveled his unfinished sandwich into his brown paper sack, and left.

When Tami sat down across from Eric, he asked, "What's wrong? They didn't fit after all? You want to exchange them for another size? I'm sure they'll let you."

"They fit, but now people think we're dating. You should take them back."

Eric's hazel eyes flashed with irritation. "And that embarrasses you?" he asked. "That people might think that? Because I'm the guy who screwed up at State?"

"No! It doesn't _embarrass_ me," she insisted. "But we're _not_ dating, and I don't want people getting the wrong idea."

"Fine," he muttered, pulled the box toward himself, and tucked it roughly under his seat.

She felt awful, but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't keep _wearing_ them, because she'd have to keep answering _where_ she got them. People were going to talk. "I really appreciate the thought that went into it."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I _do_ ," she insisted. "But you know that I don't want to date anyone at all right now. I'm done with dating for a while." Her gut seemed to sink into itself. "Eric, I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship, because I _really_ treasure it."

"Nah," he sighed, his tone softening. "Of course it won't. It's not like I _like you_ like you. I just…I wanted you to have the boots. That's all." He shrugged. He didn't meet her eyes. "I _know_ you just want to be friends. I know that. That's all I want too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm not _into_ you that way," he insisted.

She laughed. "For a minute there Kimberley had me convinced you were. I _thought_ she was being silly, but sometimes I feel like I don't know what to believe about _anything_ anymore. I can hardly trust my own senses."

"You better go get your lunch," he told her. "The line's about to close."

[*]

That night, as she lay in bed trying to fall asleep, Tami found herself strangely bothered by Eric's insistence that he didn't _like her_ like her.

Was there someone he _did_ _like_ like?

And if so, what did that girl have that _she_ didn't have?

And why did she care?

[*]

On Friday, Eric wasn't at the lunch table. Jack was there by himself, reading a note written in Kimberley's flowery handwriting. He folded it when she approached.

"Where's Eric?" Tami asked as she set her tray on the table and slid onto the bench.

"He's skipping school today. He drove to TMU to tour the campus, meet with his future coaches, and sign some kind of early commitment. He'll be home late Saturday morning."

"Why did he go on a _school_ day?" she asked.

"I don't know, Tami. Why did you give him back the boots?"

"He's not still upset about that, is he?"

Jack sighed. "I'm going to get some ketchup. You need anything?'

[*]

After school, Tami cornered Kimberley in the parking lot. "Do you _really_ think Eric likes me _that_ way?"

Kimberley leaned back against her white, Volkswagen Rabbit. "Tami, I know you're having trouble reading guys because of what Mo did to you, but I don't think Eric's regard for you could be any more obvious."

"But…isn't it just…I mean. He's a good _friend_."

"He _is_ a good friend to you," Kimberley said. "But if you don't think he'd like to take that friendship farther, you're not paying attention."

"Did he _say_ that to you?"

"No, he didn't _say_ that to me."

"To Jack?" Tami asked.

"Not to Jack either. But Jack and I – we both have eyes."

"Well if he didn't say it to _you_ , and he didn't say it to _Jack_ , and he told _me_ he just wants to be friends – "

"- He did?" Kimberley was clearly surprised by this.

"Yeah, he did. Yesterday. He said he didn't _like me_ like me, that he's not _into_ me that way, and that he just wants to be friends."

"Oh. Okay then." Kimberley shrugged. "Could have fooled me." She tilted her head at Tami. "Have you asked yourself how _you_ feel about him? How you _really_ feel about him?"

Tami hadn't. Not _really_. Not _honestly_. These days, in the wake of the pain Mo's betrayal had inflicted, she was trying not to ask herself how she felt about much of anything.

[*]

Tami Hayes, even if pressed, would not be able to pinpoint the moment she _began_ to fall in love with Eric Taylor, but she could tell you the precise moment when she finally realized that she was, in fact, _already_ in love with him. It happened on Saturday evening, at 7:57 PM, when she was looking out her father's hospital window.

The machine the doctors had hooked to the Reverend beeped and blipped as the hail clicked and clattered against the building. In the cold and darkened evening, beneath the hazy glow of the street lights, Eric dashed through the parking lot, a coat stretched over his head to shield himself from the quarter-sized ice. He was going to get her mother's car, so he could bring it around to the front door and take the Hayes ladies home. Visiting time was almost over, and they'd been at the ICU for five hours.

Eric had spent every one of those hours alongside her.


	27. A Very Present Help

Earlier that same Saturday afternoon, Tami had been chopping an apple on the kitchen counter when the phone rang. Her father, she knew, was at Taylor's, as he usually was on Saturday afternoons. Tami's mother was making her prepare the fruit salad for dinner, which she would top with whip cream and refrigerate for the next three hours.

She wiped her hands on a towel and picked up the receiver, and she was at once excited and anxious to hear Eric's voice saying "Tami." She wanted to tell him, once again, that she was sorry about the boots, but before she could get a word in edgewise, he said, "You need to get your mother and come down to the hospital in Dillon."

"What?"

"Your dad…we were playing pool, and talking, and…he just collapsed, Tami. Just fell straight to the ground."

Tami dropped the receiver, and her heart dropped with it. It dangled against the wall, and she plucked it up again. "What? What do you mean?"

"I called an ambulance, and I rode with him. We're in the hospital in Dillon now."

"Why Dillon?"

"Rankin doesn't have…some doctor guy - I don't know. We're in Dillon. You need to come down. Right now."

"He's alive, isn't he, Eric? Please tell me he's alive."

"He's alive. They're getting ready to do some operation or something. They're going to need your mom to sign some forms, I think. You need to get on down here."

[*]

Tami drove. The whole time, her mother was crying hysterically in the passenger's seat beside her, and Shelley sat in the back seat, her hand on her mother's shoulder, trying, but failing, to calm her down.

When they entered the sliding glass doors of the ICU, Eric ran to them. He embraced Tami and then led them all to the front desk. Tami wasn't quite sure what happened from there. It had taken all of her will and concentration to drive them safely to the hospital, and now she let herself be overwhelmed. As if from the bottom of a deep hole she heard the words "heart," "emergency operation," and "fifty percent chance of survival." She also heard that they weren't allowed to see him yet.

They settled on the scratchy, cloth-covered chairs of the waiting room. Eric was explaining things to Tami's mother. It seemed to Tami that his lips were moving, but no words were coming out of his mouth. His hands were moving too. He had a clipboard on his lap, and he was filling out the forms for her mother, as Mrs. Hayes told him the information. He pointed to the places where she needed to sign.

A half hour passed before Mrs. Hayes told Eric to force someone to give them some news. He went to the desk, and came back with, "They finished prepping him. He's in surgery now. They'll tell us when it's over."

Tami didn't know how many minutes passed after that, but her mother was the next to speak. "I need a Bible," she said. "Eric, I need a Bible." He disappeared to find the hospital chapel and returned with a Bible a few minutes later. He extended it to her, but she didn't take it. "Psalm 46," Mrs. Hayes said. "I need Psalm 46."

"Yes, ma'am." Eric sat down beside her. The thin pages of the Bible rustled like wind until he located the Psalm. " _God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble._ _Therefore will not we fear..._ " As Eric read, his low voice washed over Tami like a soothing wave.

Some time later, Eric went to the desk again for news, and returned saying, "They can't tell us anything yet."

"Can't or won't?" Shelley asked.

At some point, Eric excused himself to call his parents to tell them he wouldn't be home for dinner. He returned carrying three Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate like a triangle between two hands. Tami must have taken her cup without saying anything, because her mother commanded, "Thank the nice young man, Tami," and Tami said, "Thank you, Eric."

Eric went to the desk yet again. After returning, he said, "They're sending a doctor out to talk to y'all in a few minutes."

"What does that mean?" Shelley asked anxiously.

"To talk to us?" Mrs. Hayes said. "Is that good or bad?"

"I'm sure it's good, ma'am," he said.

Tami had started crying silently. She didn't even know it until Eric sat down in the chair next to hers, took her hand in his, and said, softly, "It's a'ight. It's going to be a'ight. He's strong, your father. He's going to make it."

She squeezed his hand tightly, like it was a life line that had just been thrown to her. Eric held on for the next ten minutes, until the doctor came, and started talking. All Tami really heard was that her father had survived the surgery.

When they went into the Reverend's room, he was still asleep because of whatever they had given him. Tami's mother peppered his faces with kisses and whispered a prayer of thanks to God. Shelley and Tami hugged his sleeping body, while Eric lingered in the doorway.

"Come on in, Eric," Mrs. Hayes said. "I know you want to see him, too," and with those words, Tami was reminded of how many Saturday hours Eric had spent with her father at the bar, of how, maybe, the Reverend had become like a father to him too.

Eric slowly made his way in. He looked down at the Reverend, whose chest was rising and falling beneath the dull, green hospital blanket, and swallowed.

The doctor explained to all present that the Reverend would need some serious recovery time. He would be in the hospital for the next day or two, for monitoring, and then he would need to "take it easy" for several weeks. "He ought to consider getting an interim pastor to take over the bulk of his duties for a month or two," the doctor said. He also warned them that when he awoke, he might be groggy and confused for a few hours. "Don't worry. That will pass. He'll regain awareness."

Eric sat with the ladies as they waited by the Reverend's bedside. He accompanied them to the cafeteria for dinner, and returned with them to wait some more. When the Reverend finally stirred, there were shouts of joy.

Tami's father blinked and seemed shocked by his surroundings. His confused eyes searched the room and fell, at length, on Eric. "My God, Michael. You've grown so tall! And your hair has gotten so much darker."

Eric looked helplessly at Mrs. Hayes.

"This is Eric Taylor, Edward," she said. "One of your parishioners. It's not Michael. Michael's dead. But you're not. You're going to be fine. You're going to pull through this."

"Who's Michael?" Eric whispered to Tami.

"My dad's baby brother. He died in a car crash the year before I was born."

The Reverend continued to say some incoherent things, and something particularly unexpected fell from his mouth as he looked Tami's mother up and down: "I know you. You're that pretty girl from the revival tent. The one with the gorgeous legs and the lovely tits."

Mrs. Hayes flushed red, Tami's mouth dropped open, and Shelley snorted. Eric walked out into the hallway.

"Yes, yes," the Reverend Hayes said. "I remember you. You should write a thank you note to your mother for those boobs."

Shelley fled the room guffawing, and Tami followed her, a little flushed, but smiling.

"I am totally going to remember that line for the rest of my life!" Shelley cried through her tears of laughter. "Mom's going to be pissed at him,though. Who do you think he was talking about?"

"He was talking about _her_ ," Tami said. "They met at a revival, remember?"

Eric had his back to the white wall of the hallway. His face was as red as if someone had just slapped him, but he caught Tami's eyes and smiled. "Well," he said, "I guess the Reverend's still has _some_ stamina left."


	28. Recovering

Tami didn't sleep well Saturday night. She was, of course, emotionally exhausted from the turmoil of her father's sudden operation and worried about his health going forward, but she was also reeling from her self-revelation.

That feeling that had welled up within her when she watched Eric from the hospital window - how long had it lain buried in her heart? How long had she been ignoring it? No matter how many times she asked herself those questions, she could not find an answer. Tami only knew now that she _did_ love Eric Taylor - she loved him, even though she'd never so much as kissed him.

She loved him, but he did not love her, not like _this_. Eric wasn't lying awake in his bed tonight, thinking of her, the way she was thinking of him. Eric wasn't wishing, hopelessly, for something more than friendship.

[*]

Sunday morning, a retired minister who was a member of the congregation preached, and the whole church sent up prayers of thanks for the Reverend's successful surgery and petitions that he would heal quickly.

After the service, Tami was replenishing the coffee at the fellowship table when Eric approached and asked, "How's your dad doing? Still a bit fuzzy in the head?"

Tami was struck by how handsome Eric looked in a suit and tie. She thought he must only have one church suit, dark and well-tailored, but the tie he varied: it was sometimes red, sometimes black, and sometimes pinstriped. Today, however, it was silver, and that seemed to draw out some gray-blue in his eyes. Before, she had noticed only browns and yellows. Tami wondered briefly what he might look like with a green tie, and then realized she was staring at his eyes. She looked abruptly down at the white tablecloth.

"He's alert now," she answered, but then thought she might look strange talking to the furniture and so looked at Eric again. "I visited this morning, and he's not saying anymore mortifying things."

Eric smiled. He was so adorable when he smiled. Why did he have to be so adorable? If he wasn't going to be _into_ her, if he didn't _like her_ like her, he really shouldn't smile at her like that. "Good to hear it," he said. "Although that was kind of funny."

"You ran out the instant he said the first line," she told him with a smile. "You didn't even hear the second part."

"Nah, I heard it. I heard him saying your mom ought to write a thank you note to her mother. I guess they got passed down through the generations." He flushed suddenly. "I don't mean you got them!"

Tami flushed too, but then she considered that he was basically saying she had not inherited her mother's _lovely tits_. "Thanks a lot," she said.

"No," he stuttered, "I don't mean that either. I mean, I didn't mean to say anything at all. I just – "

"- Eric."

Tami looked over Eric's shoulder to see his father.

"We need to get going," Mr. Taylor said. "You didn't finish your chores yesterday."

"Eric was a great help to my family yesterday, Mr. Taylor," Tami said. "My mom was very grateful to have him there." She caught Eric's eye. " _I_ was very grateful."

"Yes, well, I'm glad he could assist you in that time of need, but now he has to assist his own family. Right, Eric?" Mr. Taylor placed a hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Yes, sir," he said, his eyes flickering with irritation and a line jumping his jaw. But he turned and followed his father.

[*]

After going to the hospital again Sunday afternoon and talking with her father, Tami returned to the church and consulted her father's calendar and roladex. She then called each of the people he was counseling and referred them to another counselor for the time being, though several said they would simply wait until he was available again.

The elders met to settle on an interim pastor to serve while the Reverend recovered. Some ladies in the church organized a meal sign-up to help out Mrs. Hayes with front-door delivery of nightly dinners for the first week the Reverend would be out of the hospital.

Tami skipped school on Monday to help her mother settle her father back at home. On Tuesday, she reluctantly returned to school, though she would have preferred if her mother had let her skip again.

After second period, Mo cornered her by her locker. "I heard your dad had a heart attack. Is he okay?"

"He's going to be," Tami said. "He's going to have to make some lifestyle changes, and take some medicine, but he's going to live another thirty years," she insisted.

Mo put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. You should have called me. I would have been there."

She shook his hand off. "I think you were busy with Sue Beth. Or Anita. Or maybe both at the same time."

"Look, I know you're pissed at me, but that doesn't mean I don't still care about you. Because I do, Tami. I _loved_ you."

"You had a funny way of showing it."

"I wish you could forgive me."

"I _will_ forgive you," Tami said. "But we are _never_ getting back together."

"Okay, fine. I just think… couldn't you have used a friend at that moment?"

"I _had_ a friend. Eric was there the entire time."

"Eric, huh?" Mo said, his eyes flashing with anger. "I told you! I knew it!"

Tami shook her head. "Eric doesn't like me like _that_."

Her own voice sounded strange to her when she said those words: hurt, disappointed. But Eric had said as much, hadn't he? The words had fallen form his own lips – _I just want to be friends too_. Why did she have to feel this way about him _now_? Why did she have to so suddenly want more, when he'd already told her he only wanted friendship?

"But he _is_ a good friend," she told Mo. "A better friend than you ever were a boyfriend." Tami slammed her locker shut and strutted off to class.

[*]

Mrs. Hayes demanded that her husband slow down and not resume any part of his pastoral duties until he had rested for a few weeks. He was simply to stay home and recover, she insisted. He complied. In fact, he didn't resist her command at all.

He took to wearing his favorite thick, burgundy terrycloth bathrobe over a pair of black sweat pants and a T-shirt. He ensconced himself in the living room arm chair, in front of the fireplace, where he read through book after book. He even got himself a bell to ring when he wanted tea or a snack or a new book.

Tami thought he was enjoying being waited on just a tad too much. Her mother must have thought so, too, because while she came running at the sound of the bell on Tuesday and Wednesday, by Thursday evening, she'd had enough.

Tami was sitting cross-leggeded on the living room couch, her Algebra II book open on her lap, when her father picked up his bell and rang.

Mrs. Hayes walked into the living room and planted a hand solidly on her hip. "Edward," she said, "you have two feet. I suggest you use them."

"But I'm recovering from my operation, my love," he told her.

"The doctor says you can do some gentle, moderate exercise. So I suppose you can exercise yourself to the kitchen and back."

"I don't understand," he said. "Are you particularly busy?"

"I _am_ busy, Edward. I'm _very_ busy. I'm in the middle of writing a thank you note for my boobs."

She left him sitting in the chair, looking stunned. For a while, he just stared in the direction in which his wife had departed. Then he turned his eyes to Tami. "Did she just say what I think she said?"

Tami snorted. "You said some things when you came out the surgery in the hospital."

"What things?"

"Just that you appreciated Mom's physique. And you thought Eric was Michael. And you said something about one of the elders being a pain in your buttocks – "

"- Did I use that particular choice of word?"

"Yes. Buttocks. And you confessed to your secret stash of whiskey in the library behind the commentaries on Matthew."

"It's just a very little bottle and I only take a nip once a week at most, when your mother is really nagging me."

"Well good thing you didn't say _that_ to her."

"What else?" the Reverend asked.

"Something about someone stealing one of your sermons, and something about how your father was going to whoop you and Michael if he found the cigarettes you rolled and hid behind the barn. Was it weed, Daddy?"

"No, it wasn't weed! It was just tobacco, and we only did it a couple of times." He drummed the arm of his chair. "Was that all I said?"

"Wasn't that enough?" Tami asked.

"Tami, sweetheart, would _you_ get me some iced tea?"

"No, Daddy. I'm not crossing Mom."

The Reverend drummed the arm of his chair a second time, but then he rose and made his slow way to the kitchen.


	29. Pining

Tami continued to share lunch with Jack and Eric, who asked after her father daily, but she didn't go to the coffee shop. She wanted to be home in case her father needed her, in case the surgery hadn't worked, in case he collapsed again. And maybe, also, she was afraid that is she spent too much time with Eric, her feelings would betray her, and he would guess how she felt about him. If he knew she had fallen for him, that could make their friendship awkward, and he might start avoiding her. A little less time with Eric now, she thought, would ensure continued time with Eric later.

But when Friday rolled around, she was going a little stir crazy in the house, and she didn't like the idea of not seeing Eric at all until church on Sunday. So at 5:30, she walked from the parsonage to the coffee shop.

Eric asked after her father at the counter. She gave him the current report, and he gave her some strawberry cheesecake. "Free sample," he said with a smile, though she insisted on paying for it. Why did he have to be so nice to her? If he didn't _like her_ like her, he shouldn't be giving her free cheesecake. It just made her _like him_ like him even more.

Tami settled into a corner table to read, but she spent a lot of time looking _over_ her book rather than _at_ it. The muscles of Eric's arms flexed when he lifted a large, recently delivered box to carry it to the backroom, and Tami tried not to let her eyes linger on them. Later, a college-age brunette Tami vaguely recognized from around town flirted with him over the counter while ordering, and Tami tried not to let it bother her. She couldn't tell if Eric was flirting back, or if he was just being nice, but he did talk to the girl for at least 165 seconds. Not that Tami was counting.

She was relieved when he gave the girl a to-go cup and she left the shop. The brunette didn't leave, however, without throwing a smile over her shoulder at him. Eric didn't seem to notice, and that, at least, gave Tami some relief.

Tami lowered her head to her book again and tried to read, but mostly she was just waiting for closing, for the quiet walk home, for _her_ time with Eric.

[*]

They walked silently for the first few minutes. Tonight it had dropped to 36, which felt especially cold because, the previous night, it had been 59. Eric had on navy blue slacks and a white sweater, over which he wore his long black coat open. A knitted, red scarf was draped loosely around his neck, and he had his hands in his pockets because, unlike Tami, he hadn't brought gloves. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if he slipped one of his hands out and held hers. He'd held her hand at the hospital, but she hadn't felt it, not really, not the way she would feel it if he did it right now.

She had to stop thinking about such things. "Did your mom make that scarf for you?" she asked.

"Hey, don't knock it. She knows how to knit _and_ how to make a great martini."

"I wasn't criticizing," Tami insisted. "I think it's sweet that you wear it. Does your mom work at the bar?"

"Only if someone calls in sick at the last minute. My dad doesn't like her having to work."

"Like…as a control thing?"

"Nah, not really," he said. "More of he'd be ashamed to appear as though he weren't providing for her thing. Plus, she gets hit on sometimes when she tends bar or waits tables. He _really_ doesn't like that."

Tami chuckled. "Has he ever gotten in a barroom brawl?"

Eric snorted. "My dad? Hell no. That would be too messy. That and it might imply he wasn't 100 percent sure of his position. And he's always sure of his position."

"You mean, in the family?" Tami asked.

"I mean he takes my mother for granted."

"I think my parents used to do that. Take each other for granted. For a couple of years there. But then they got counseling…and now, they're better about that. I think the heart attack made my mom think about losing him too. And he knows now how much he _needs_ her, even if she _is_ sometimes a pain in the ass."

"What are you talking about? Your mom's a lovely lady."

Tami laughed. "You've never had to live with her. You've only seen her pastor's wife face at church. She can be really judgmental sometimes. And strict and demanding."

"You don't know strict and demanding," he told her.

"If I swear around her, it's like I just killed a baby. Well…except one time. And she told me if I fool around with a guy, I'm going to hell. She wouldn't let me go to _any_ parties at all my freshman or sophomore year, not even harmless ones, and my dad just kind of let her make those decisions back then."

"So you snuck out?"

Tami wondered if he was thinking of Boone, and wished she'd never told him about that. "Yeah. I was stupid." She didn't want him thinking about Boone. "What were you talking to my dad about when he had the heart attack?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"The latest _Sports Illustrated_ Swimsuit Issue."

She stopped walking.

He laughed. "I'm kidding you! We were talking about my plans while I'm in college. I'm going to try to figure out how I can volunteer to coach kids between the playing and studying. I don't think I can do it in the fall, so I'm going to coach youth spring flag football. That'll give me a little experience. But I also need some spending money, so…I've got figure out some way I can coach, get some paid work, _and_ study."

"What do you need spending money for?" she asked. "All the hot dates you're going to have in college?" She didn't know why she asked it. She didn't know what she hoped he would say in response.

"I hear people don't date in college anymore. They just have lots and lots of random, casual sex for four years, and then after all that fooling around, later in life, when they aren't in college anymore, they somehow magically find their spouses."

"But that's not what you plan to do, is it?"

"I don't believe in magic," he said. "And I think I want to be married a few years before I have kids, enjoy my time alone with my wife, you know? But I also want to have kids early enough that I'm not too old to play ball with my son when he's a teenager."

Tami had never heard a teenage boy talk so blatantly about wanting a family before. Well, Jack had probably mentioned wanting six kids at some point, but Jack was an aberration. Mo had certainly never talked about his desire for family. Then again, maybe that was because they were dating, and Mo didn't want to appear as though he was in anyway suggesting he wanted to marry _her_ anytime soon.

"So in college," Eric continued, "I'll probably, you know, take a girl out on a _real_ date, and if that works, take her out on another one. And another. And if it _doesn't_ work at some point…then I'll ask out a different girl." He shrugged. "Rinse and repeat, until I find the right one."

"How will you know when she's the right one?" Tami asked.

"Because I'll want her," he said, "and she'll actually want me back. And unlike Lisa, she'll want me even when I'm not right there." He'd come to a stop as they were now in front of the parsonage. "This is you. Tell your dad I said hello."

"You want to come in and talk to him?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. We'll talk at the bar on Saturday. Your mom will let him out for that, at least, right? I mean, it'll have been two weeks."

"I suppose if she doesn't, he'll sneak out."

Eric smiled. "Well, tell him we've got that Pilsner he likes on draft now."

She watched Eric walk several feet back toward the coffee shop before she went inside.


	30. Something Happens

"Tell him," Kimberley said.

They were sitting at a picnic bench in the school courtyard during their fifteen minute break. There were rumors the school was going to get rid of that break next year and add forty minutes to the school day so they could have seven classes instead of six, but Tami would be long gone by then. Let Shelley deal with seven classes. Tami's little sister would probably love it. Then she could take basket weaving on top of the art or whatever it was she was doing next year.

It was chilly, so the courtyard wasn't as crowded as it usually was during break, except for a few smokers, who lingered against the brick wall, and who were largely ignored by the teachers. The major anti-smoking campaigns that were starting to come out had not yet hit Rankin, although the school had finally gotten rid of its student smoking lounge Tami's freshman year, driving the students outside. Tami had only touched cigarettes a couple of times herself, during her rebellious sophomore year, and she'd coughed so much at both attempts that she'd decided she would look cooler if she _wasn't_ smoking.

"Just _tell_ him," Kimberley repeated.

Tami had just confessed to Kimberley that she had _some feelings_ for Eric. That seemed safer than saying, _I'm head over heels in love_.

"I can't tell him! He already made it clear he's not interested in me that way."

"Maybe he was lying," Kimberley said. She pulled her gloves out of her coat and slid them on.

"What do you mean, maybe he was lying?"

Kimberley shrugged. "Well what would you say, if you were a guy, and some girl you had the hots for told you point blank she didn't want to date you?"

"I didn't tell him point blank I didn't want to date _him_. I told him I didn't want to date _anybody_."

"Well," Kimberley said, "tell him you've revised your opinion."

"What if he stops being my friend?"

"Then he wasn't really your friend to begin with," Kimberley told her. "If he doesn't want to date you, it'll be awkward for a while, sure, but he'll _still_ be your friend in the end. And he probably _does_ have the hots for you."

Tami shook her head. "I don't know."

"Tami, have you noticed that he's _still_ not dating anyone? It's January. It's the third quarter now. He's not still pining after his ex, because she offered to get back together and he cut it off with her. That's what you said, right?"

"Yeah," Tami admitted.

"If he's not holding out for you, what the hell is he doing? I mean, seriously - "

"- Shhh!" Tami hissed.

Jack had just walked out the side door. He spied them at the picnic table, walked over, and straddled the bench next to Kimberley. He kissed her cheek. "You said you'd meet me under the bleachers."

"Tami distracted me," Kimberley said. "I'll make it up to you after school, I promise."

"I have to work," he said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I'll stop by. You sure are cute in that fry cook apron and that little white hat."

Jack smiled.

"Where's Eric?" Kimberley asked, and Tami shot her a warning look. Kimberley returned a sly smile.

"He went to do some extra credit for English," Jack answered, "because he got a C on that last test."

"What does he care?" Kimberley asked. "He's got a full ride to TMU. It's not like they're going to revoke it because he gets Cs his last two quarters."

Jack said, "His dad will ream him a new one if he comes home with anything less than a B in anything. And a B is borderline."

Kimberley shook her head. "Poor guy. He could use some stress relief." She looked at Tami. "He could use a good, fun time."

[*]

Tami _considered_ telling Eric. She _hoped_ Kimberley was right about Eric's feelings for her, but what if she wasn't?

The next time she shared lunch with Eric and Jack, she felt awkward. Jack kept smirking at her. Tami hated to think that Kimberley might have revealed her trust and told Jack how she felt. Tami didn't think Jack had told Eric, though, because Eric was acting his usual self, which is to say, he was building a tower out of French fries.

"Okay," Eric said. "Tami, see if you can remove one without the whole thing collapsing."

"What?"

"Try it," he insisted.

"Does she win a prize if she can do it?" Jack asked, looking at Tami, that wry smirk plastered to his face. "What _is_ her prize?"

Tami wished he'd cut that out.

"Y'all should take turns, actually," Eric said. "The person who doesn't collapse it gets the prize."

"You should box and market this game," Jack told him, finally turning off his smirk.

"The French fries might get moldy though," Eric replied.

Tami pulled out a fry, ever so slowly. The structure remained.

Jack took a turn. He felt out a couple of them first, before attempting one. The fry tower instantly fell. "Yeah, never mind," Jack said. "No one would want to play this game."

"So what do I win?" Tami asked.

Eric smiled. "You get all the fries."

"Ewww!" Tami exclaimed, half laughing. "Everybody's fingers have been all over them."

[*]

The next day, after work, Tami ventured to the coffee shop. As she sat and pretended to read, she contemplated telling Eric how she felt on the walk home.

Once, he caught her looking at him, so she promptly lowered her eyes to her book. She forced herself to read, word by word, sentence by sentence.

Her heart was a nervous flutter. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to tell him? If so, she should wait until they were very near the parsonage, so she could run to safety inside if and when he told her he wasn't interested in her _that_ way.

After managing a single page of her book, which she'd read three times now without processing the words, Tami heard a clack.

Eric had turned the sign to closed.

[*]

The freshly mopped floors of the empty coffee shopped sparkled beneath the glow of the overhead lights. The chairs nestled snugly in place on top of the tables. Tami stood near the glass door, a royal blue scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, wondering what she'd done with her gloves, and waiting for Eric to put away the mop and walk her home.

She glanced out at the cars passing intermittently by and noticed a few, large fluffy snowflakes falling from the sky and melting into nothingness the moment they hit the street. Eric's footsteps tap-tapped across the tile floor, and she turned to see him standing very nearby. He looked at her for only a second, and then he looked up, up, up to the ceiling of the coffee shop above them. Tami followed his gaze. From the rafters hung a single bunch of mistletoe.

"It's probably time to take that down," Tami told him. "I mean, it's almost February."

When she lowered her eyes from the mistletoe, she caught his. His voice was deathly serious when he said, "We better honor it."

A nervous giggle escaped her lips. Where had that laugh come from? It didn't even sound like hers. Was he serious? Did he _want_ to kiss her? Or did he feel _obligated_ by tradition to kiss her?

"What?" she asked, and that was when he put a hand on her hip, and leaned in, and his lips touched down on her lips, and something happened.

Tami didn't know what happened exactly, but it was a like a small, lit match had been dropped in a hidden vat of lighter fluid. Her mouth was suddenly open, and her hands were buried in his thick hair, grasping and tearing at the strands. Eric's hands were on her back and hair and neck and shoulders, roaming all over her suede jacket, and then down to her bottom, which he squeezed through her jeans. Their tongues lashed one another in an urgent dance. There was smacking and gasping and hard breathing and stumbling until somehow they hit a table and knocked a chair off of it. The loud clack of furniture against floor brought Tami to her senses, and she pulled away.

"What just happened?" she asked.

"What just happened," he said, "is that you _finally_ decided to be my girlfriend."


	31. Only What Is Necessary

Tami couldn't stop smiling when Eric walked her home from the coffee shop that night. She felt strangely giddy, like a little kid who has woken up on Christmas morning to find a mountain of sparklingly treasures under the tree and is eager to unwrap each one to discover the surprises that lie inside.

Their breath made clouds in the air as they talked, but her bare right hand was toasty warm in his left hand, their fingers laced together as they strolled.

"I never did return those cowgirl boots," he said. "In case you still want them."

"I definitely want them," she said. "But I thought you didn't _like me_ like me. That's what you said."

"I said that because I didn't want you to feel awkward around me. But I _do_ like you."

"Yeah?" she asked, a smile tugging almost painfully at her lips.

He turned his head to look into her eyes. "Yeah," he half whispered. "I like you." He leaned down and kissed her, not like in the shop, but a short, soft, pleasant kiss that left her wanting more.

"Did Jack tell you that Kimberley told him that I told her that I liked you?" Tami asked.

He shook his head. "That was a confusing sentence."

She laughed. "I know."

"Jack didn't tell me anything about Kimberley saying anything, but he told me he thought you wanted more than friendship. I told him I wasn't sure about that. Then he said I ought to just throw down the gauntlet and find out."

"Throw down the gauntlet?"

Eric laughed. "That's what he said. So I figured if I kissed you, I'd find out if you wanted me or not. You know...would it turn out to be a quick and friendly peck, with you hardly responding, or..." He grinned.

Her eyes widened. "Did you _plant_ that mistletoe there?" She certainly hadn't noticed it there before today.

"I thought it might give me plausible deniability if you turned out not to like the kiss. But...uh..." He laughed.

Tami giggled. Still holding his hand, she put her other hand on his arm and walked closer to him. Their feet almost touched on the pavement. "I was going to tell you I liked you on the walk home."

"Really?" Eric asked skeptically.

"I was!" After they'd walked in silence a few more steps, she said, "I know this is going to sound crazy old fashioned, but I'm going to have to ask my dad's permission to date you before I can _actually_ agree to date you."

"If he said yes to Mo, I don't know why he'd say no to me. Though, from all our bar chats, he does know a _lot_ about me. And not all of it is good."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like small lies I've told my father over the years. Times I've broken the house rules. Things I've done with my teammates I'm not proud of."

Tami was desperately curious to know what those things were, but she refrained from asking.

"Nothing real serious," he clarified, "but…I wish I hadn't told him all that now."

"It's weird that I'm about to date a guy my dad knows more about than I do."

"He doesn't know _more_ ," Eric insisted. "He just knows _different_." He squeezed her hand. "You and I…we've talked a lot. I've already told you more than I've ever told any girl, including the one I dated for two whole years."

Tami rested her head on his shoulder. "When you take me out the first time," she told him, "you're going to have to come inside and talk to both of my parents for about thirty minutes first."

"I think I can handle talking to your dad. I've been there and done that, more than a few times. Your mom, on the other hand….after what you said about her, now she scares me a little bit."

Tami raised her head off his shoulder. "She's suspicious of any boy who wants to get within ten feet of her daughters. And after Mo…maybe doubly so." She smiled. "But I think she's got a soft spot for you, after the way you…you know. Looked out for her at the hospital."

He was quiet for a while, and she enjoyed walking with her hand in his. It felt _right_ somehow, like her hand _belonged_ there. But eventually, Tami spoke again. "What about your folks? Are they going to be okay with you dating me?"

"My mom just wants me to be happy," he said. "My dad, well…he has his qualifications, you know."

"Well, fortunately I'm on the honor roll. Does he have more requirements than that?"

"He has an entire list."

"Uh oh," she said. "Do I meet all the criteria?"

"I can't wait to break free of every one of his rules the second I set foot out that door in August. That's another reason I didn't want to take his money for college. I knew it wouldn't come without strings attached."

"You can't break free just yet, though. So, tell me, what are the qualifications necessary to earn the privilege of dating Eric Taylor?"

He smiled. She loved that smile – a little self-deprecating, a little amused. "She can't be more than a year older than me."

"Check."

"Or more than a year younger than me."

"Check."

"She has to be a Protestant," he said, "but _not_ a fundamentalist. He doesn't like fundamentalists. They picketed one of his bars once. Mainline denominations only."

"Well, he goes to our church," she said, "so I guess we qualify."

"Her parents can't be divorced."

"Seriously?" Tami asked.

"Hey, that's a check."

"Your _mother_ was divorced. And he _married_ her."

"I made the mistake of pointing that bit of hypocrisy out to him once," Eric said. "It did not go well for me."

"So, what else is on the list?"

"She has to have at least one serious extra curricular to which she dedicates a minimum of ten hours a week of effort."

"Good Lord. Your father needs his own category in the DSM."

"In the what?" Eric asked.

"It's the manual my dad uses to diagnose people when he's doing psychological counseling."

Eric chuckled.

"Does volleyball count now that the season's over?" she asked.

"No, not now that the season's over," he answered. "But your job would count. You still working at the church office?"

"Well I guess I have to if I want to date you! But I would anyway. Anything else?"

"She can't be…you know…an Anita Nisbeth type."

"Check," she said, and then thought of Boone, and cringed a little.

"Triple check," Eric assured her. They were at the parsonage now. A light was aglow in her father's study and in the kitchen. He twirled her around to face him, her back to the door. Their bodies were close together now, but not quite touching. She breathed in his scent. Soap and…peppermint? She could tell he wanted to kiss her again, but he didn't. "So you'll ask your father tonight?" he said. "If you can date me?"

"You're eager."

He took both her hands now and looked her in the eyes. "Tami, I've been wanting you to be my girlfriend for a while now."

"How long?" she asked. "Since around Christmas time?" She thought of the boots, and some of the things he'd said when she'd suggested girlfriends for him.

"Longer. I don't know how long. At least since November."

"November?"

"I've never been able to talk to a girl the way I've talked to you. But…I knew you were Mo's. So I…" He shrugged. "I tried not to dwell on the fact that you were beautiful, and compassionate, and funny, and blunt."

"You say blunt like it's a good thing. My bluntness annoyed you."

"Yes and no. I think it's brave, you being able to just come out and say what you think like that. I could never do that."

"I thought you were seriously thinking about getting back together with your ex in November."

"I entertained the thought, yeah. I still had feelings for her, even when I was developing them for you. And I thought I couldn't have you then. When I say I tried not to dwell on you…I _really_ tried not to dwell on you. But when I look back on it, I realize…it's been a long, slow fall."

"I think I've had feelings for you for a while too," she said. "Not _that_ long, but…probably longer than I realized."

"Well, I'm glad you finally realized them." He leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were deliciously soft, and she didn't want the kiss to end, but the door opened, and he pulled back immediately.

The Reverend stood there, no longer in his sweats and t-shirt and beloved bathrobe, but in the "real people's clothes" Tami's mother insisted he wear for the duration of his recovery: navy blue slacks and a button-down shirt. "Hello, Eric," he said. "Any particular reason you're kissing _my_ daughter in front of _my_ house?"

Eric's eyes darted frantically to Tami's.

"Eric and I…we would like to date, Daddy."

"Like to?" the Reverend asked. "Seems you already _are_."

Tami opened her mouth, but her father interrupted her. "Eric," he said, "Come on in. Let me show you my library. It's a fine library. I have some books that may interest you."

Eric followed him inside. Tami trailed behind them, but her father blocked the door of his study once Eric walked in and said, "I think your mother needs you in the kitchen." He then shut the door right in her face.

[*]

It was almost twenty minutes before Eric emerged from her father's study and into the living room, where Tami and her mother were now sitting. Both stood. Eric's hair was sticking up a little in the front, like a cat that's just been spooked.

The strands of Michael Jackson penetrated the entry-floor ceiling, and Shelley could be heard singing louder than the music, " _They're out to get you, better leave while you can. Don't want to be a boy, you want to be a man!_ " Eric's eyes turned up to the ceiling. " _You want to stay alive, better do what you can. So beat it! Just beat it!_ "

Eric's eyes turned down again. "Good evening, Mrs. Hayes," he said.

The Reverend cleared his throat. "Eric would like to take our eldest daughter on a date Friday evening, Linda. What do you think of that?"

"I suppose the better question is what Tami thinks of that?" Tami's mother looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I'd like to," she answered.

"Then I suppose I won't object." Mrs. Hayes smiled at Eric. "I don't know what we would have done without you in that hospital."

"I was glad to help, ma'am," Eric said. "So...I'll pick her up here at 5 then, if that's okay with you, ma'am?"

"And what do you intend to do with her?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

Tami flushed and look down at the carpet.

"Uh...maybe the barbecue joint and then a movie?" he glanced at Tami. She nodded.

"What movie?" Mrs. Hayes asked. "Tami is not permitted to see R-rated movies."

"Ghostbusters?" Eric asked nervously. "It's playing at the second-run." Rankin didn't have a first-run theater. People had to venture to Dillon for the new theater if they wanted to see movies that had been released within the last three months. "It's PG."

"And what's that about?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

"These guys who fight ghosts."

"Ghosts? It doesn't promote paganism, does it?"

"Uh, no, ma'am. It's a comedy. It's just supposed to be...funny."

"Hmmm..." Mrs. Hayes said.

"Linda," said the Reverend. "There's Samuel's ghost in the Bible. There's a ghost in Hamlet. There are ghosts in all of great English literature."

"But this movie doesn't sound like great English literature, Edward."

The Reverend laughed.

"Fine," Mrs. Hayes said. "You'll have her back by ten."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Eric?" Tami's mother asked.

"I thank you for the invitation, ma'am, but I think my mom's already cooked and is expecting me."

"Another time then."

Tami walked Eric to the door and stepped outside with him. "What on earth did my father say to you in his study?" she asked.

"That's between me and the Reverend," he said solemnly. "See you in school tomorrow." And then, instead of kissing her goodbye, he did his little nod-bow thing.

Tami went back inside and glowered at her father. "What did you _say_ to him?"

"Only what was necessary, Tami," her father told her nonchalantly. "Only what was necessary."


	32. Look What We Have Here

Tami cornered Kimberley by her locker before first period and excitedly told her what had happened.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Kimberley half shouted, and then lowered her voice when people started looking their way. "It's about damn time."

Tami grinned.

"Was he a good kisser?"

Tami looked around and whispered, "Fantastic."

"How long did the kiss last?"

"I was kind of preoccupied, Kimberley. I wasn't exactly counting the seconds. He's taking me to the movies Friday, after barbecue."

"The second run in town?"

Tami nodded.

"Good. It won't be crowded. Everyone's going to Dillon for the new movies now. Sit in the way back, left corner. No one will see you making out."

Tami rolled her eyes. "We're going to watch the movie."

"Like hell you are." Kimberley shut her locker. "Think he'll try anything serious?"

"On the first date? No! Did Jack?"

"Well of course _Jack_ didn't. Jack barely kissed me when he took me home the first time. But we're not talking about some altar boy here."

"We're not talking about some playboy either!" Tami insisted.

"I know. I didn't mean that. But come on, Tami. I mean, he was in a two-year relationship. They must have been having lots of sex. And he hasn't gotten _anything_ for over five months. And he's been interested in you for how long? He's got to be horny as hell at this point."

Tami shifted her backpack nervously on her shoulder. "You really think he'll want something more than kissing? I'm not ready for that."

Kimberley shrugged. "Then just tell him you're not." She picked her backpack up from the floor. "He'll deal."

"I think maybe my dad spooked him enough that he won't try anything serious."

"Your dad?" Kimberley asked. "Really? He's kind of a teddy bear."

"Until he doesn't want to be," Tami said. "In fact, I was kind of afraid Eric wouldn't even make out with me on the first date after talking to my dad."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Kimberley said as she began walking. "The second he gets you completely alone…."

[*]

Shortly before their lunch period, Eric found Tami by her locker and leaned against the neighbouring one. "Hey," he said.

She held her locker open and looked at him around the door, a little shyly, the memory of their passionate kiss warming her cheeks. "Hey."

"You looking forward to Friday?" he asked.

"I am."

"Sorry about just picking the movie like that without asking you. It's just your mom kind of put me on the spot. If you want to watch something else, that's fine. They're also showing _Sixteen Candles_. If you know, you prefer a romantic comedy. I checked. It's PG."

Tami shut her locker door. "My mom's crazy about that R thing. I'm 18 now!"

"It's fine. There aren't any good R movies showing anyway," he said. " _Sixteen Candles_?"

"No. I never saw _Ghostbusters_. I want to see it. It looks hilarious."

"Okay," he said and smiled. "And we don't have to do barbecue. I know it's not fancy or anything – "

"- There's nothing fancy in Rankin anyway. Barbecue is fine. It'll be great. And we're going dutch. You're not paying for everything."

"Uh…okay," Eric said. "But it is a _real_ date, right?"

Tami put the book she'd been holding in her backpack, which was resting on the floor, and then leaned against her locker. "What does that mean to you? A _real_ date? What are you…you know… expecting exactly?"

"Uh…to take you out."

"And…?"

He looked confused. She wished she hadn't asked. Now maybe she sounded like _she_ wanted to get laid.

"And…then, if you have a good time, which I think you will, because I'm a blast to hang out with, and I'm very charming –"

Tami giggled.

" – then, uh, you'll go out with me again. And again. And…." He wiggled an eyebrow. " _Again_."

She put a hand on his chest. "You're cute," she said.

"Yeah?" He leaned in and kissed her lightly.

"Well look at what we have here."

When Eric pulled back at the sound of that voice, Tami saw Mo standing right in front of them. She sighed. "Hey, Mo."

Mo pointed at Eric, but he looked at Tami. "Did I not tell you he's been trying to get in your pants since he moved here?"

"Not since he _moved_ here," Tami said, and then flushed because that might imply she thought he was trying to get in her pants _now_.

Mo looked at Eric and moved his pointer finger in a jabbing motion. "Don't tell me you haven't been calling her behind my back for months, walking her home from that damn coffee shop, flirting with her, telling her I was sleeping with Anita Nisbeth – "

Now Tami was just plain mad. "- That's ridiculous, Mo! I told you that he hasn't been calling me behind your back! He didn't tell me about Anita! I saw you two. I _saw_ you!"

"And he hasn't been walking you home from the coffee shop since September?"

"No, he hasn't been – well, yeah! Okay! Yeah, he walked me home from the - "

"- Aha!" Mo exclaimed. "Traitor," he hissed at Eric.

Eric took a step forward, so that he was in Mo's face. "She's made her choice, _Morris_. And it's _her_ choice."

"You _helped_ her make it."

"Aren't you with Sue Beth now?" Tami asked. "How's she going to feel about you still being all hung up on me?"

Mo took a step back from Eric. He turned his eyes to Tami. "Well I hope you have a good time with him, Tami. I hope he can satisfy you. But I doubt he can. Because as we all know from State, he's not very good with completion."

Eric's nostrils flared.

"Mo," Tami warned. "Cut it out."

"He's a bit of a fumbler," Mo continued, leveling his eyes straight at Eric now. "Bit of a loser, really. Would have lost us State if not for my daring rescue. Lost his scholarship before he even had it. Stuck in Division II. Loser."

That last loser must have been the straw that broke the quarterback's back, because the next thing Tami knew, Eric's palms were on Mo's shoulders, and then Mo was stumbling back several feet.

"Eric, don't!" Tami commanded.

Eric stopped moving forward.

Mo put up his fists. "You want a piece of this?"

A couple of juniors in the hall started yelling, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and kids in the main hall started running toward the locker bays.

"I do _not_ find fighting sexy," Tami told Eric, "Just so you know." She slung her backpack over her shoulder.

Eric held up his hands. "No fight!" he announced. "There's no fight! There's nothing to see here."

Tami felt relieved, but that was when Mo looked right at Eric and said, "Of course there's no fight. Because we all know Eric Taylor is a chicken shit loser."

[*]

Tami slid on the cafeteria bench across from Jack, who was drawing his sandwich out of a brown sack.

"So is Eric in the principal's office?" he asked.

"Yep. You heard about the fight?" It hadn't lasted long before a teacher broke it up. There were no bloody noses or black eyes. No punches even landed. The fight had gone quickly to the floor, and then there was a lot of grappling and grunting. It looked more like a wrestling match than a brawl.

"No, I saw it. I was at the other end of the hall when it started."

"I really hope this fight doesn't jeopardize his scholarship," Tami said.

"It won't. I know how Principal Manner handles the team. It won't go on any record."

"Must be nice to be a football player sometimes."

"No, he just believes in second chances," Jack claimed. "For everyone."

"I really wish Eric hadn't fought Mo. It's such macho B.S."

"Cut him some slack, Tami. Did you hear Mo calling him a chicken? What was he supposed to do?"

"Walk away," Tami said.

Jack shook his head. "You can't walk away when a guy calls you that, Tami. The rest of the guys will eat you alive. You _have_ to fight."

"Not everyone _has_ to fight," Tami said. "You've _never_ been in a fight. You believe in turning the other cheek, right?"

"Sure, but I've only got two cheeks. And no one's ever provoked me like that. You can't blame Eric for that, Tami. Mo started that. Don't be mad at him for finishing what Mo started."

"I just hope it _is_ finished," Tami said.

"It will be," Jack assured her. "Because while Principal Manner will let this one slide, he's going to make it clear that a second fight won't slide. And Mo doesn't want to risk his scholarship with a suspension." Jack cracked open his Diet Coke with a hiss. The drink had come out two or three years ago, and Tami had tried it, but she couldn't get use to the weird taste. She stuck with the regular variety. "You're not backing out of your date with Eric now, are you?"

"No," she said. "Of course not. So I take it Kimberley told you I liked him?"

"She didn't have to tell me. I draw my own conclusions."

"How long do you think Eric's liked me?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't know. But remember that last game of the volleyball season?" Tami nodded. "I wanted to go see Kimberley play. I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out. I told Eric that, and he said he'd come to give me moral support. But I _saw_ who he was watching that entire game."

"But you didn't ask Kimberley out at that game."

"No. I chickened out. But I flirted with her a little."

While Jack sipped his Diet Coke, Tami asked, "How are your parents, with you dating a Baptist?"

"Not thrilled," he admitted. "But what are they going to do? I'm 18 now. I'm leaving soon."

"I think for Eric, it can't be soon enough." She was thinking of how much he wanted to escape his father, but now she thought of how far apart they would likely end up. He'd been near Austin, and she'd most likely be near Dallas, three hours of road apart. She frowned.

"You might get into TMU," Jack said, and Tami felt suddenly exposed. How did he know what she was thinking? "Even if you don't," Jack continued, "the schools you applied to are what, three hours from Austin? Kimberley's probably going to UT-El Paso. That's over 11 hours from Oklahoma State." He sighed. "Might as well be another world."

[*]

During their government class, Eric handed a note backward to Tami. It read –

 _Can we change our date to Saturday? I have to clean the locker room toilets Friday evening as punishment for the fight._

Tami sighed. On the paper she scrawled – _Don't you have taxi duty at the bar on Saturdays?_

Under that, he wrote back – _I can probably get off at 4:30 if I worked Sunday evening._

She scrawled back – _Sure then. But that fight was NOT sexy._

Under that he scrawled – _Sorry_ and handed it back. She was reading his one-word reply when the teacher snatched the paper from her hand. Fortunately, Mr. Thomas didn't threaten to read it aloud to the class. He just tossed it in the trash can. Then he said, "Mr. Taylor, please switch desks with Ms. Allen."

"Who?" Eric asked.

Kimberly stood up. "He means me."

"Oh," Eric said, standing up. "I never knew your last name."

"Flattering," Kimberley said as Eric took her seat in the front row and she took Eric's in front of Tami. "Guess I'm a buffer state now."

Mr. Thomas smiled thinly. "Well at least _someone's_ been paying attention to my government lectures."


	33. Nervous

Eric looked adorably nervous on Saturday evening as he sat in the living room arm chair in the parsonage, trying to make continued conversation with Tami's mother. Tami's father wasn't saying much.

Tami had put on a knee-length skirt (anything shorter might have raised her mother's eyebrows, and, besides, it was winter) and a pink blouse that accentuated her chest without being low-cut enough to offend her mother. The cowgirl boots Eric had given her stretched almost to her knees, so only a flash of skin was showing. Eric had on his usual khakis and a button down-shirt and a pair of loafers. He looked nice, she thought, but he always looked nice.

"And what do you plan to major in?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

"Physical education, ma'am, with a concentration in youth and high school coaching. And I'll double major in education, so I can be certified to teach, too."

"Teach what?"

"Whatever, ma'am. Whatever they need me for. But coaches don't make much money until you get up to a head coaching position of a major high school. Even then, I'll need to supplement my coaching income."

"You don't have to major in the subject you'll be teaching?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

"Uh…no, ma'am. Not necessarily."

"Well no wonder our education system is so pitiful."

Eric clearly didn't know what to say to that, so Tami said, "Eric is going to TMU on a full football scholarship."

"Yes, Janet told me," Mrs. Hayes said. "That's very nice, that your parents don't have to pay anything at all. We're going to help Tami with about half her tuition, wherever she ends up getting in, as long as it's a _state school_ , of course, but she'll have to make up the rest with work or loans."

"Well, but, she's also applying to TMU," Eric said.

"Yes, I saw that," Mrs. Hayes said, "but that private school tuition is going to be beyond her reach, unless they give her a scholarship."

Eric glanced at Tami. Tami thought it was a moot point, anyway. TMU was her long shot.

"Janet said your father wants you to go to A&M," Mrs. Hayes continued, "but I can't for the life of me imagine why you'd go someplace you had to pay for when you have a full scholarship to a school that's just as good!"

Eric looked back at Tami's mother. "Well, but, my father doesn't think it's just as good."

"Your mother said it has an outstanding academic reputation."

"Uh, yeah, but its football team is only Division II."

"What does that mean?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

Eric looked puzzle that any Texans could not know such a simple football-related detail.

"It means Eric will get plenty of play time," the Reverend said, "and improve his knowledge of the game, and probably even be given an opportunity to shadow the coaches at times. It means the school will be a good match for him." Tami's father glanced at his watch. "Well, I guess you two should be going."

[*]

Eric wiped his hands with the paper towels that were on the picnic-bench-style seat. "Maybe barbecue wasn't the best idea for a first date," he said.

"They have wet wipes," Tami told him, and pointed to a small, silver bucket full.

He grabbed one from the bucket and ripped it open. The little packet made Tami think of a condom packet, which made her wonder if Eric carried condoms in his wallet, which made her wonder if he hoped to get laid sometime early in this relationship, as Kimberley had implied he might.

Tami felt suddenly awkward. "I uh...really like barbecue," she said.

"Me too." He pushed his empty plate aside. "Listen, I'm real sorry about the fight, but if I had walked away from that –"

"- It's okay," she interrupted him. "It's over. I just don't like you two fighting over me like I was your prize Guernsey."

"You don't win a Guernsey _as_ a prize. The Guernsey _wins_ a prize. For being so wonderful a Guernsey."

"And are you my prize?" Tami asked.

He smiled. "I'd look good in a display case."

She laughed. "I'd rather keep you on my arm, like an accessory."

"I can manage that." He turned his wrist to read his watch. "We better get going or we'll miss the movie."

[*]

They got in line for popcorn, even though they'd just eaten. "I'm not even hungry," Tami confessed, "but I feel like it's not a proper movie without popcorn."

"I feel the same way!" Eric said those words with such excitement that Tami laughed.

"Well I hope we find we have more in common than that."

He smiled. "Well, how do you feel about Sno-Caps?"

"I _love_ Sno-Caps!"

They both laughed.

The popcorn ended up resting on the floor when it was only half empty, though the candy was successfully demolished. Once the popcorn was out of his lap, Eric held her hand. Eventually, however, he put his arm around her.

The movie was funny, but there was an awkward moment when there was a sexually suggestive scene with a lot of talk of the gatekeeper and the keymaster. Tami and Eric both stared straight ahead at the screen the entire time, and Tami wondered what he was thinking, if he was thinking about having sex with _her._ When that uncomfortable moment was over, and the movie wound its way to its final scene, he turned and kissed her.

Tami had no idea what happened in the last five minutes of _Ghostbusters_.

They were still making out in the dark when the credits rolled. His tongue tasted salty and sweet, from the popcorn and Sno-Caps they'd shared. He stroked her hair, caressed her arms, roamed her back with his hands, nibbled her neck, and eventually cupped and squeezed a breast through her shirt. She covered his hand with hers and lowered it from her breast to her hip.

He kept kissing her, but he also kept his hand where she'd put it. They broke apart when the lights went on and the brooms came out.


	34. Putting the Fire Out

There wasn't much time after the movie if Tami was going to meet her 10 o'clock curfew. That was something of a relief to her, because she didn't think Eric would drive and park at some make-out spot with so little time left. She didn't want to have to put him off again if his hand strayed. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed the feel of his hand there, but if she allowed him to do that, then on the next date he might try the _next_ thing, and then the _next_ …she figured she better throw up a red light before he picked up too much speed.

Eric pulled his pick-up to the curb several feet away from the parsonage. He probably didn't want Tami's parents spying on them out the window.

He clicked off the engine but left the keys dangling, which Tami supposed meant he wasn't planning to walk her to the door just yet. "Did you have good time?"

"Yeah," she said. "It was fun."

"So, uh…you want to go out again next weekend?"

She nodded.

"Maybe a picnic?"

"In February?" By next Saturday, it would be February – just barely.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Probably not the brightest idea I ever had."

She laughed.

"I just…you know," he looked at her with a smile. "I don't want to stare at a screen the whole time next time. I want to …Connect."

 _Connect_. What did he mean by _connect_?

Mo had taken things slowly the first couple of months, being the good choir boy that he was back then, but once he started down that road to sex, he'd been a bit like a barreling train, picking up steam every date, urging her to the moment sooner than she'd been ready. She'd said yes, of course; it was her _choice_ , but it was a choice made under duress. She'd been afraid of losing him. She didn't want to make the same mistake with Eric. And if he'd _already_ started his engine…

"What do you have in mind, exactly?" she asked.

"I thought we could do something fun Saturday afternoon?"

"What about the bar? You're taxing one to seven, aren't you?"

"My dad wants me to switch to Friday evenings now that football season is over." Eric had never worked Fridays at the coffee shop. "The crowds aren't at the high school games anymore. They're at the bar watching sports, and he needs more coverage."

Tami wondered if that would also mean no more bar chats with her father. She didn't see her father wanting to hang out in the midst of the Friday night crowd, and perhaps Eric was pulling back from that relationship now that he was dating her. She hated to think she'd driven a wedge between Eric and her father. She thought Eric could use a male role model that was a little more hospitable than his father or Coach Connor, who, as far as Tami could tell, only had one volume – yell. Yet talking with the Reverend had to be more awkward for Eric now. He wasn't the pastor anymore. He was the girlfriend's father.

"So how would you like to _connect_?" she asked.

"Maybe we could drive to Odessa. Go to the art museum?"

Well, he certainly wasn't going to try to get very far in an art museum, but it was over an hour's drive to Odessa, over an hour away from the watchful eyes of her parents, and there were probably plenty of places to park between here and there.

"Is that a bad idea?" he asked. "I thought you might like it. You said you loved the art history unit in your history class your junior year."

"You remembered me saying that?" And he had filed that information away and then _applied_ it to please her? Tami was impressed.

"There's no museums around here. It's just a little over an hour's drive. Walk. Talk." He smiled. "Look at pretty things with a pretty girl."

"That sounds really nice," she said. "I'd like that."

He leaned over and kissed her. He left his hand on her hip, but when the kiss grew deep, and he moved his hand up her side to just _below_ her breast and let it linger there, like he was testing the waters to see if the tide had changed, she pulled away. "It's probably almost 10," she said.

"Yeah. I'll walk you to the door."

He hustled around and opened the passenger's side door while she was recovering her purse from the floor. "That's pretty old fashioned," she said when she stepped out and he closed the door.

"Sorry. I won't do it again."

"I didn't say I didn't _like_ it." She took his hand.

At the door, he let go of her hand. He glanced over her shoulder like he expected it to open any second. "I had a really good time," he said.

"Me too." She leaned in for a goodnight kiss, but his peck was short before he pulled away and looked over her shoulder again. "It's okay," she said. "My dad's not waiting behind the front door with a baseball bat."

He smiled. "Well, yeah. He's much more likely to have a really heavy Bible."

[*]

Her father was awake when she came in, reading in the living room arm chair by the fire, not the Bible, but some thriller by Ken Follett. Shelley was awake, too, watching an episode of _Charles in Charge_ she had recorded earlier in the week.

Tami settled onto the couch. "Mom asleep?" she asked.

"She went to bed at 9," her father answered. "How was the movie?"

"Come on, Daddy," Shelley said, "you know Tami wasn't _actually_ watching the movie." She snickered at her big sister.

"We watched the movie," Tami insisted, in a low voice of warning.

"Yeah, really? You mean Eric wasn't too busy playing _keymaster_?" Shelley had seen the movie with a friend the previous weekend, supposedly a girl, but Tami knew she'd actually gone with a girl and two boys, one of whom was Mason Davneport, the kid their father wasn't too fond of.

"What is your sister talking about?" the Reverend asked.

"I have no idea," Tami said, shooting Shelley a scalding look.

"Eric looks kind of like Scott Baio," Shelley said, nodding to the television.

"He looks _nothing_ like Scott Baio," Tami insisted.

"Yeah," Shelley agreed. "Scott Baio is _way_ hotter."

"Scott Baio is a total dweeb," Tami told her.

"Well," the Reverend announced, slamming his book shut and standing from his chair. "I'm going to leave you two to settle this very important debate while I head off to bed. Tami, put out the fire."

After the Reverend had disappeared down the hall and up the stairs, Shelley said, "Yeah, Tami, _put out the fire_ ," and laughed.

Tami rolled her eyes.

"Did you let Eric make it to second base?"

"Shell, do you even know what second base is?"

"Petting above the waist," Shelley said, as though she were reading from a dictionary, "including touching, feeling, and fondling the chest, breasts, and nipples."

"Oh good Lord."

"I'm not the innocent little girl you want me to be, Tami. I'm all grown up now."

"You are _not_ all grown up. You are _far_ from all grown up."

"I can _officially_ start dating when I'm a sophomore."

"But I take it you're _unofficially_ dating Mason Davenport now. Was that a date at the movies last weekend?"

"Yes, but I only let him get to first base. I know second base is for the second date."

"No it's not!" Tami exclaimed, horrified to think her little sister was going to let Mason Davenport feel her up.

"Calm down. It's _oaky_ if Eric got to second base tonight, even though it was y'all's first date, because I heard he stole first base before you were even dating."

"Heard _where_?" Tami asked.

"I heard Mom and Daddy talking about how Daddy caught you kissing on the street."

"Oh." Tami was wondering if someone had seen them knock over that chair in the coffee shop. "Listen, Shelley, you do _not_ have to go to second base on a second date. You can go on _as many_ dates as you want and _still_ not go to second base."

"Not if you want him to keep asking you out," Shelley said.

Tami sighed. "Don't do that, Shell. Don't give into a guy like that. Take your time. Really. You're young. Slow down."

"Is that what you're doing?" Shelley asked. "Taking it slow with Eric Taylor? Quarterback? Football star? At least he _was_ a star before he bombed at State. I'm sure he's had sex with a _lot_ of girls by now."

"No! He's been with _one_." Tami regretted telling her that when the words were out. That was Eric's business, not Shelley's, but her sister had put her on the defense. "And, no, I didn't let him take second base, and he's not doing it on the second date either, _or_ the third."

"Really?"

" _Really_. Shell, you can get to know a guy first. "

"You've known Eric Taylor for months. Y'all have been friends since September."

That was true, Tami realized. Friends who sometimes took long walks at night together, sharing their hopes and fears. Did Eric think all that counted as steps along the road to sex? Would his expectations be higher because of that?

"None of that matters, Shell. The only thing that matters is what _you_ want. And whatever you do, don't let Mason Davenport get to second base. He's not worthy of second base. Your bases are valuable, okay? Don't forget that."

Shelley laughed. "My bases are _valuable_ ," she muttered, and walked over and turned off the television. "Sex is no big deal," she told Tami. "Mom just makes it into _such_ a big deal because she's a total prude."

"It _is_ a big deal," Tami insisted. "It's a _very_ big deal. Save it for someone who matters, someone you've dated a long time, someone you _love_. Shell. _Please_. I'm telling you this as your big sister, as someone who loves you." _As someone who knows that a small part of you dies when you throw your virginity away_ , she thought, but she didn't say that, of course.

"Fine," Shelley said, and walked over to the fire place. " _I'll_ put the fire out."


	35. Sex in the Air

**A/N:** Your comments are appreciated! Thank you to those who are continuing to comment. I know this is getting very long, so it's good to know some people are still enjoying it. The specific comments about the parts you like (or the comparisons to the show you have) have been very encouraging.

[*]

The next morning at church, Eric left his parents in their usual pew and went and sat next to Tami. Mrs. Hayes looked over Shelley at Eric and raised an eyebrow. Tami thought her mother wasn't thrilled at the change in seating traditions, but the break wasn't unheard of - Mo had sat in this pew for some months and then vanished from it. After one suspicious glance, Mrs. Hayes looked forward again.

Eric held Tami's hand when they were sitting, and Tami thought her father's eyes, when surveying the congregation from his pulpit, sometimes landed on those clasped hands, but it was the eyes of Eric's father she felt the most. She imagined they were boring into her from his seat three pews back.

When she stood by the door later, and Mr. Taylor shook the Reverend's hand, he said nothing to Tami, but Mrs. Taylor asked, "Did you enjoy the movie last night?"

"It was very entertaining," Tami told her.

"It's a shame Eric had to miss the last two hours of his taxi duties for such a frivolity," Mr. Taylor said.

"You said you wanted me to switch to Fridays anyway," Eric muttered.

"I do, but you didn't work this Friday, did you? You were too busy serving out your feeble punishment for that petty schoolyard brawl."

"What's this?" the Reverend asked, looking at Eric as though he felt betrayed not to have been informed of the incident.

"Mo said some awful things to him, Daddy," Tami told him. "And Eric tried to walk away at first, he really did, but Mo just wouldn't let him."

"Hmhm," the Reverend murmured. "The issue was resolved, I hope?"

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

"You can bet he'll also be doing extra chores at home from now until graduation," Mr. Taylor assured the Reverend. "I considered not allowing him out Saturday night, but he'd apparently made a commitment to take your daughter out, and I don't believe in breaking commitments once they're made."

Tami was annoyed to be referred to, essentially, as a duty to be completed. Tami's father looked annoyed as well, but he said only, "Yes, it is good for a man to honor his word. We agree on that." His mouth remained open for half a second after those words, and then he closed it quickly, as though he had been about to say something more and thought better of it. Perhaps, Tami thought, he was about to say, _Even if we don't agree on much else._

"Well," Mrs. Taylor said cheerfully, "Eric couldn't have had lovelier company, I'm sure." She smiled at Tami. The she turned one at a time to Tami's parents. "It was a very thoughtful sermon, Reverend. And Linda, I'm looking forward to seeing you at the clothing closet tomorrow." She took her husband's hand and tugged him toward the door. Eric followed, glancing sheepishly at Tami as he left.

"Was that fight over _you_ , princess?" her father asked. "Was - " He immediately stopped talking and plastered his face with a smile as another parishioner stepped forward to shake his hand.

Later, however, after family lunch, and after his usual Sunday afternoon nap, Tami's father invited her into his study. He asked to know more about the fight, and she told him the full story.

He drummed his fingertips on the top of his large, oak desk.

"Don't judge him, Daddy, please. Eric's a great guy, really, and it's not as if he picked the fight." Tami had gone from being annoyed at Eric for the fight to defending him adamantly. She wasn't entirely unaware of the irony. "It didn't last long, he paid the consequences, and it won't happen again."

Her father was looking off into a corner of his study, at the bookcases that housed his collection of western classics. She wondered what he was thinking, and hoped he hadn't begun to disapprove of Eric. "Did he win?" he asked.

"What?"

"Did he win? The fight? Eric?"

"I...I don't think anyone won. It was broken up."

The Reverend sighed. "I envy the boy."

"You...envy him? Eric?"

"A chance to slam Mo against a locker and wrestle him to the ground? Yes, I envy him that." He stood. "Something smells delicious. What do you suppose your mother is cooking? Let's have a look, shall we?"

He was out the door before Tami could finish blinking.

 **[*]**

Eric and Tami quickly became known as a couple at school because they held hands in the hallway and could sometimes be found flirting and kissing by the lockers.

"I'm glad you found someone," Sue Beth told her Tuesday in the girls' bathroom. Then she looked at Tami like maybe she expected Tami to say, _I'm glad you found Mo_ , but Tami didn't say anything. "Eric's a nice guy," Sue Beth continued.

"He _is_ a nice guy," Tami said deliberately, but she didn't follow with _unlike Mo_. She didn't dislike Sue Beth, not really. Sue Beth hadn't stolen her boyfriend from her, hadn't come onto Mo while they were still together. The cheerleader had merely picked up the discarded crumbs, and she was going to end up choking on them, sooner or later.

Wednesday, in another one of the girls' bathrooms, however, Tami ran into someone she _did_ dislike: Anita Nisbeth.

"I saw you sucking face with Eric," Anita told her. "I guess he's not gay after all."

"Definitely _not_ ," Tami said. "And absolutely no one ever though he was except you."

"He's kind of uptight though. I bet he's a lame kisser."

"He's a _superb_ kisser," Tami insisted. "Better than Mo. But I guess you wouldn't know what Mo's kisses are like anymore, since he's with Sue Beth now." She strutted toward the door.

"Honey, I don't need your ex-boyfriend," Anita told her. "And I sure as hell don't need your current one. I've got those boys lining up to – "

Tami closed the door on her last words.

[*]

Eric picked her up at ten in the morning on Saturday. It was raining, and his windshield wipers left smeared tracks. He stopped at an auto supply store on the way out of town and replaced them. "Sorry," he said when they got going again, his hair and brown leather jacket beaded from the rain. "I didn't know they were in such bad shape."

She glanced at his rear view mirror, which was held on by duct tape.

"I'm going to replace that," he insisted, "but I had to get a leaky gasket fixed three weeks ago."

She was suddenly grateful for her father's generosity in the car he'd given her. She really hadn't worked all that long for it, but the car, though used, was in tip top shape. Maybe she should have volunteered to drive. Suddenly, she worried that her boots, which she was now wearing with a pair of jeans, had wiped out his savings, even with the poker winnings.

"I _can_ afford to fix the mirror," he insisted. "I just…I'm trying to set financial priorities."

"I think it's great that you work so hard and buy so much of your own stuff," she assured him. "You're going to be really well equipped for real life, you know? And the truck looks great. You vacuumed it, didn't you?"

"Yeah. And I wiped down the dash board. And I got an air freshener." He nodded to the little disc hanging from the duct-taped mirror. "Cinnamon. You always add cinnamon to your coffee."

She smiled at his eagerness to please her and his attention to detail, even though the air freshener was so strong and cloying that she was afraid it might give her a headache before their drive was over.

"Raido's tuned to the country station if you want to turn it on," he said. The truck didn't have a cassette player, just the radio.

"I thought you hated country?"

"I don't _hate_ it," he said. "It's just kind of boring. And sad a lot of the time. And they don't have a lot of drums. But you love it, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm fine with just talking for now."

Complete silence followed that pronouncement.

Tami didn't know what Eric was thinking, but she was quietly wondering if he would stop somewhere on the way home later, and if they would make out in his truck. She wanted to. She'd been thinking about the feel of his lips on hers, of his hands caressing her arms and back, of a more passionate tangling of tongues than they were able to enjoy in school. But she also feared what else he might try, or, at least, feared the awkwardness of having to rebuff him.

She looked out the windshield and tried to think of something to say.

How had they gone from being able to talk about almost _anything_ to this nervousness? _Why_ were they even nervous? He liked her. She liked him. What was there to be _nervous_ about?

Nothing, Tami supposed, except the thought of sex, hanging in the air, like the overpowering scent of cinnamon.


	36. Ten Things about Eric Taylor

The museum was a lot smaller than Tami had expected it to be.

Eric kept apologizing for it. "I really thought it would be a bigger deal."

"No," she said, "This is great. It's great to see any art at all."

"We probably could have gone to the mall in South Rankin and gone to the frame store and seen this much art," he grumbled.

"No we couldn't have," she insisted. "And the gardens are real pretty." They'd walked through them to get to the museum.

"They're dead," he said. "And it's raining."

"Well, I'm having fun. Aren't you?"

He smiled. "Yeah." He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "You uh…want to go through the place one more time?"

"Sure," she answered, even though there wasn't much to see.

Tami made sure she spent a particularly long time before the painting she liked best and that she made a number of detailed observations to him about it, in order to draw out the museum visit and make him feel better about taking her all the way here. Tami also spent a long time browsing the gift shop, even though she didn't intend to buy any of the highly overpriced items.

He bought something, though, for her - a 25 cent postcard with a print of that painting she'd like on the front. "You'll get it in the mail," he told her, "someday."

[*]

They grabbed lunch at a Chi-Chi's after the museum. She noticed Eric ordered only water to drink and picked one of the cheapest things on the menu.

When she took the check to pay, he pulled it back from her. "No! No, I can get it."

She let him. Tami felt like it would be a slap to his ego if she didn't, but when he stopped for gas before hitting the highway, she insisted on filling his tank. He seemed more inclined to accept gas than a meal. Boys were funny.

The rain had stopped and the sun was peeking through the clouds when they left the gas station. On the drive back to Rankin, Tami was determined not to allow any more awkward silences. Anytime the conversation started to wane, she'd ask him a question. As a consequence, she learned ten things about Eric Taylor she had not known before:

 ** _One:_** Before playing football, in elementary school, he'd played little league baseball for three seasons. He was a terrible batter, but he was a "passable pitcher."

 ** _Two:_** His favorite board game was Risk, because when he looked at all those countries and armies, he saw a field where he could map out multiple plays and then alter them as circumstances dictated. It was game of both chance and skill, he said, like life.

 ** _Three:_** His favorite movie was _Twelve Angry Men_. This greatly surprised Tami. She would have expected a sports drama, or some John Wayne or Steve McQueen or Clint Eastwood movie, not a story about twelve guys debating guilt or innocence in a jury room. "It's awesome," he told her. "It's about how you can build consensus, you know, even when everyone on the team has a completely different personality." She pointed out that a jury wasn't a _team_ , exactly, but that didn't seem to bother him.

 ** _Four:_** His favorite T.V. show was _Magnum P.I_. This was considerably less surprising.

 ** _Five:_** He hated the TV show _Dallas_. Tami said it was something her Grandma Hayes would have liked, if her grandma were still alive. "Grandma used to live with us," she told him. "She loved her stories." And then Tami thought how odd and very sad it was that Eric had never known his own grandparents, with his dad being practically orphaned and his mother having been disowned by her parents.

 ** _Six:_** His favorite college football team was not the Aggies, as she might have thought, but the Longhorns. "1970," he said, "Coach Darrell Royal. Thirty-game winning streak, Tami. Thirty games! They beat Arkansas 42-7 that year. That was a great year. I mean, I was just in preschool, but it was a great year." She smiled at how excited he was.

 ** _Seven:_** He'd had his first kiss when he was 12, at his first ever co-ed party. The guys on his junior high football team talked him into playing spin the bottle. It landed on Elizabeth Shoemaker. She had freckles, lots and lots of freckles. Eric's palms were sweaty when he kissed her, and her cheeks were bright red, and everyone was watching. He and Lizzie "went together" for three weeks after that, without ever actually going anywhere. She "dumped" him for #37, a linebacker on his team.

 ** _Eight:_** He snuck into his first R-rated movie when he was 13. The guys on the team talked him into it. _Porky's_. They'd heard there would be a shower scene.

 ** _Nine:_** He toilet papered his first house when he was 14. The guys on the team talked him into it. It belonged to a rival team's coach. He felt bad after he'd done it, thinking about how many hours that guy would have to spend cleaning it up. "That's going to be me one day," he said. "Cleaning toilet paper out of my trees. Karma."

 ** _Ten:_** He got drunk for the first time when he was fifteen. The guys on the team talked –

"Hold it right there!" Tami said. "At some point, you're no longer being talked into things. You're just doing them because you want to do them."

"That's exactly what your dad said."

"You told my dad all this?"

"I told him I sometimes did things with the team to fit in that I didn't think were smart or nice. Mostly, though, I talked to him about that friend I told you about, the one I made fun of. That's the only thing I feel really, really bad about. The rest were more stupid than evil. Your turn."

"My turn?" she asked.

"First kiss."

"I don't want to talk about that." It had been Boone, actually. She'd gone right from her first kiss to her first _time_. Virginity goodbye. Everything for no one. She'd been a child wanting to be a woman, then wishing she was a child again.

"Oh," he said. "Was it that asshole?"

She nodded.

"Fifteen?" he asked.

"It's part of why I snuck out. I didn't have a _life_ until then. I wasn't allowed to date until sixteen. But I think my parents learned it was better to know where I was and who I was with, to give me more of a leash, so I wouldn't just go wild."

"Ah."

"More stupid or evil?" she asked.

"What?"

"What I did with Boone? Do you think it was more stupid or evil?"

"Evil for him. Stupid for you." He glanced at her. "I respect you, you know," he said, and she didn't know how badly she needed to hear those words until he said them, and the relief shot through her like an electric current unraveling every tense muscle. "Favorite movie," he asked her.

" _Casablanca_."

"Oh, good. So I only have to compete with Humphrey Bogart in the looks department?"

"But can you play the piano?" she asked.

"I couldn't even play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder in fourth grade."

She laughed. They continued to talk, until he pulled into an empty church parking lot.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, nervous and excited at once.

"I thought maybe…uh…you'd like to make out? I mean, if you want."

"For a little," she said. What she really wanted to say was – _I want to take it slowly._

She _wanted_ to take it slowly, but she was also once again startled by the intensity of her physical desire for him. She'd enjoyed making out with Mo, but she hadn't felt this level of sheer _want_. So when, a few minutes into the kissing and caressing, he put his hand cautiously _below_ her breast, she leaned right into it.

He began to caresses her through her soft, purple sweater, fondling first one breast and then the other, sending shivers through her spine. "Beautiful," he murmured between kisses. Eventually, he slid his hand down to the edge of her sweater and began to push it up. The fabric tickled her flesh as it glided over her bare stomach, but before he could catch a glimpse of her bra, she took his hand and drew it away, and then she pushed the sweater back down.

He looked at her, breathing in and out. "Sorry," he said. "I thought…."

"It's our second date," she managed through her own heavy breathing.

"Yeah. I know. I wasn't trying – "

"- You _were_ trying."

"I mean, I thought you wanted me to. I misunderstood. I'm sorry. I'm not good at this."

"Good at what?" she asked.

"Knowing what you want. Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad," she said. "Are you mad?" Mo had often seemed irritated whenever she threw up a red light.

"Why would _I_ be mad?"

"I don't know. You _shouldn't_ be!"

"I'm _not_." He put his hands on the keys.

"I just want to take it slowly," Tami told him. "I didn't say I wanted to stop kissing."

He looked back at her. "You don't?"

"No. I really…I like your..." She giggled. "I like your lips. You're a good kisser."

"Yeah?" He looked incredibly relieved. He let his hand slide from the keys. Soon those lips were pressed again to hers. They made out, kissing cheeks, lips, ears, and necks, until the single _whooooop – whop!_ of a siren caused them both to pull back.

"Oh crap," Eric muttered, looking in his rearview mirror at the police car that had just pulled up behind them.

The officer knocked at the window. Eric cranked it down, rolling the window handle slowly. "Yes, sir," he said. "Officer, sir."

"Son," the officer said, looking around inside the truck, "does this look like make-out camp to you? Or does it look more like a receptacle to house vehicles while people are worshiping Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?"

"Uh….a…receptacle? Sir?"

"Are you being a smart ass, son!"

"No, sir! Officer. You said is it a receptacle, or – "

"- Son, never mind what I said. I've got a seventeen-year-old daughter."

"Uh….okay."

The cop leaned into the open window and practically hissed in Eric's ear. "Consider this a warning and move along. And if I ever see you in this church parking lot again, or in any other parking lot, for any purpose other than _parking_ , I'm calling your mama." He pulled himself out of the window. "And I'm calling that girl's father."

"Yes, sir." Eric started the engine. "You won't see us here again."

The cop walked off, and Eric cranked up the window. He let out breath as the cop car pulled away. As he threw the truck into reverse, he said, "Whew. That was a close one."

"Thank you, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ," Tami said, and then they both burst out laughing.


	37. Flirting

Tami felt like Mr. Taylor was watching her again during church, though it might have been her imagination. She abandoned her father at the church door after services and went to the fellowship table, where Eric was filling a coffee cup. "What does your dad think of you dating me?" she asked.

Eric blew on the coffee, and the steam rose and curled in front of his hazel eyes. "I don't think he thinks about it much at all." He took a small sip. "You meet all the criteria, so I'm _allowed_. Besides, he's too busy worrying about getting Taylor's to meet certain benchmarks so he can sell it for a profit in June."

"He's still selling it even though you aren't taking the tuition money for A&M?"

"Yeah. He's looking to buy a different bar in Dallas. My mom wants to be near my sister when I leave for college."

Tami could understand that. Perhaps Mrs. Taylor found the prospect of being completely alone with her husband a tad too much to bear. Then again, she _had_ married the man. Tami wondered why. "I'll probably be in Dallas for college."

"You _did_ apply to TMU, right?" he asked, stepping out of the way of the Warner twins, who were scurrying about the well picked-over table in search of any remaining sweets. One of the boys grabbed the last brownie, and the other chased after him shouting that his brother _must_ share.

"Yes," Tami said. "But I really don't expect to be admitted. I think I should hear back from UNT and UT-Dallas soon."

Eric looked into his coffee cup. She wondered what he was thinking, if he thought it was too much trouble to maintain a Dallas-to-Austin long-distance relationship. But if his parents and sister were in Dallas, he'd have all the more reason to visit there often.

Tami hoped this relationship would last into college. "Austin is only a three hour drive from Dallas," she told him.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Houston is a lot farther from Rankin."

"Oh." So he was thinking of Lisa dumping him shortly after he moved. Tami took his free hand, the one that wasn't holding the coffee, and squeezed it. She was about to offer him some reassurance, but the sound of laughter interrupted her.

They both turned to see Eric's mother talking to Reverend Hayes. The church crowd had mostly thinned out by now, and apparently all the handshaking had been done, as Tami's father was no longer at the doorway but in the middle of the foyer.

The Reverend laughed again, and then Mrs. Taylor laughed too. Meanwhile, Mr. Taylor was standing to the side, his back to them both, his hands clasped behind himself, reading – or pretending to read - something on the bulletin board.

"Well at least they're getting along," Tami said, and just as she did Mr. Taylor turned and said something to Eric's mother.

"I better get going," Eric said. "My dad's got that look in his eye, the one he gets when he's tired of waiting for her to be ready to go." He kissed Tami's cheek quickly. "See you at school."

 **[Sunday Evening]**

Tami was slicing her corned beef brisket when her mother said, "What were you and Janet flirting about in the foyer today, Edward?"

"What?" the Reverend asked.

"Uh oh," Shelley said. "Sounds like Daddy is in troub-le."

"I wasn't _flirting_ with her," he insisted. "How absurd. I haven't flirted with a woman in over twenty years."

"You certainly don't have to tell _me_ that." Mrs. Hayes buttered her cornbread with a slap slap and then a turn of the knife.

"You're looking beautiful today, my dear. That dress is very becoming on you. Is it new?"

"It's three years old, Edward."

The Reverend picked up his sweet tea and sipped. Then he put it down. He looked at his daughters. "Help me out here."

Shelley laughed.

"She's a very attractive woman," Mrs. Hayes said, "Janet. She's a good match for her husband in that regard, at least, I suppose. I mean, he's _positively_ handsome. He looks like some kind of leading man who's just stepped out of a black and white movie."

"Yes, but then he opens his mouth and ruins the effect," the Reverend said.

Mrs. Hayes put down her knife. "But Janet doesn't ruin the effect when she speaks, does she? She's charming, isn't she?"

The Reverend smiled. "This is quite amusing, my love. The last time I recall you being jealous was in December of 1965."

"What happened in December of 1965?" Shelley asked, her blue eyes twinkling with delight.

"That was when Irene Collette threw herself on your father under the mistletoe at that church in Dillon," Mrs. Hayes told them.

"I wouldn't say she _threw_ herself on me."

"No, you're right, Edward, just her lips."

Tami chuckled. "Daddy got kissed by a parishioner?"

"Is that why you left the church in Dillon?" Shelley asked.

"No," Mrs. Hayes answered. "That church was a mess in a lot more ways than Irene Collette. There was something funny with the books, and I'm pretty sure the secretary was having an affair with one of the elders."

"The pianist was also sleeping with the assistant pastor," the Reverend.

"Wait, weren't _you_ the assistant pastor?" Shelley exclaimed.

" _I_ was the pianist," Mrs. Hayes told her. "Your father thinks he's being clever."

"That church was a mess," the Reverend said. "I _tried_ to clean it up."

"What happened?" Tami asked.

"Some people don't like positive change," her mother told her. "But the whole church eventually imploded, and the congregation scattered, just like your father warned the elders it would. And we moved here to Rankin."

"Does Irene Collette still live in Dillon?" Shelley asked.

"I'm sure she does," Mrs. Hayes said. "And I'm sure she's on her third out-of-wedlock child by now."

"Linda," the Reverend said, "the quality of mercy is not strained."

"I'm merely stating facts. And what does that mean?"

"It's Shakespeare."

"What _were_ you flirting with Mrs. Taylor about?" Shelley teased.

The Reverend pointed his fork at her. "First of all, I was not flirting. Second of all, she told a very funny joke. Now finish this fantastic corned beef brisket your mother cooked. She's a superb cook. It's but one of her many talents and virtues." He looked at their mother with a slight smile.

"Keep working at it," Mrs. Hayes told him.

 **[Monday Evening]**

Tami leaned over the counter by the cash register. Eric's eyes flitted left and right, and he must have been confident no one was watching, because he kissed her, ever so quickly. But then he stood straight again. "What can I get you?" he asked. "You need a refill?"

"Were you flirting with that brunette?"

"What?"

Tami had been sitting at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, studying. That same college-age girl who she had seen flirting with him a few weeks ago was back. She'd taken an awful long time to order a single coffee and a cupcake.

"The one you gave your last cupcake to?"

"Nah." He shook his head.

"But _she_ was flirting with _you_ ," Tami insisted.

"I can't be held responsible for that." He smiled. "Are you jealous?"

"Not in the least," Tami insisted.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he said, and leaned over the counter and kissed her again, a little longer this time.

She pulled away. "I am _not_ jealous. You know who _is_ jealous, though?"

Eric shook her head.

"My mom. Of your mom."

"What? Why?"

"She thinks your mom was flirting with my dad after church yesterday. When they were laughing."

"Oh, come on. My mom's like that with _everyone_. She's always smiling and laughing and talking to people."

"She's not like that with your own father, though."

"Well, yeah," Eric agreed, "but that's because my dad's…he's not a kidder. He doesn't joke around. Ever."

"That must be weird. Even _my_ mother jokes around _sometimes_." Tami thought there could not be two more different married people than Eric's parents.

"Was your mom actually upset by that?" Eric asked with surprise.

Tami shook her head. "No, I think she was just teasing my dad."

"Yes, ma'am, may I help you?" Eric asked over her shoulder. Tami turned and saw the customer standing there, smiled apologetically at Eric for blocking up the line, and slipped away.

 **[Tuesday Morning]**

"Jack won't even let me give him a blow job," Kimberley said. She was sitting next to Tami on one of the benches in the main hallway. They'd run into each other at the office, where they'd both been sent by their respective teachers to deliver the attendance to the secretary, and neither was in a hurry to get back to class.

Across from them, over the front doors, hung the banner, "Rankin Tigers – 1984 State Champions!" The calendar had clicked over to 1985, though, and it felt like a new era to Tami. They were almost halfway to 1990. Where would she be in 1990? A college graduate, a psychologist maybe? Would she still be with Eric?

"I'm pretty sure Eric would happily let me do _anything_ to him I want," Tami said.

"I told you he'd be horny as hell at this point."

"He's been good, though," Tami said. "I told him I want to take things slowly, and he's totally following my lead."

"I wish Jack would follow _my_ lead. He says oral sex is sex, and he's not having sex before marriage."

"Well…it kind of _is_ ," Tami said. "I mean, it even has sex right there in the name."

Kimberley sighed. "I was hoping he'd say yes, and then there'd be a little tit for tat, you know. Why did I have to fall for an altar boy, Tami? Can you tell me that?"

"Because he's cute, and he's sweet, and he's athletic, and he's smart. And he speaks two languages fluently."

"Hey, that's _my_ boyfriend you're talking about," Kimberley said with a smile. "Valentine's day is in two weeks. You and Eric doing anything special?"

"I don't know," Tami said. "He hasn't mentioned anything. I'm not allowed to go out late on school days anyway. We go out on Saturdays. How about you and Jack?"

"He's taking me to a dance at his church, which my mom, being the good Baptist that she is, finds really weird. You know the joke?"

"What joke?" Tami asked.

"Why are Baptists against having sex standing up?"

Tami shook her head.

"They're afraid it might lead to dancing."

Tami laughed.

"Ladies," Principal Manner said as he stopped in front of them. "Is there a reason you're not in class?"

"We were just resting our feet," Kimberley said. "We're headed back right now."


	38. Cheap Date

For the third date, Tami volunteered to drive. She also suggested they both eat dinner _before_ they went out, so Eric wouldn't feel obligated to spend much money. Tami even had a coupon for two free admissions to the roller rink in South Rankin. She was going to be a cheap date tonight, except when it came to making-out. Eric would have to earn his time in the backseat of her sedan.

He did.

He made her smile all night long, from the silly, formal way he teasingly rolled his hand out to her when he asked her to couples' skate, to the way he broke her fall with his own body when another shaky teenager collided with them, to the childlike excitement he showed when they engaged in a very close game of air hokey. (Tami beat him in the end, 15-13, and he accepted his loss with surprising grace.)

"You've clearly been skating before," she told him over the table at the snack bar when they were splitting a coke during the all-girls skate. "Several times." She hadn't expected him to be so sure on his feet.

"Sure. The roller rink was the best place to pick up girls my freshman year, before I was going steady with Lisa."

"Oh yeah?" she asked. "And how many girls did you pick up?"

"Well, I probably couples' skated with at least a dozen," he said. "But then I couldn't manage to talk to any of them afterward, and the romance kind of fizzled."

She laughed. "I'm glad you can talk to me."

"Me too." He leaned over the table and kissed her.

Tami was in command of the car on the way home this time, so when she pulled into the empty school parking lot, he was the one to ask, "What are we here for?" The wide grin on his face, however, betrayed his hopes.

"You know what we're here for," she said.

They crawled into the back seat and made out for a long time. Tami's hands roamed his back, his shoulders, his muscular arms. She buried her fingers in his hair, and pressed herself to him. She wanted his hands on her breasts – not under her shirt, not yet, but she wanted to _feel_ them caressing her. Eric, however, didn't make a move in that direction. Tami figured he must be shy from her previous rebuff. Eventually, she took his hand and pressed it, palm down, against one of her breasts.

In her ear, he whispered, "You want this?" and began to gently caress her through her silky blouse.

"Mhmmhmmm….." She murmured. "But not underneath."

"A'ight," he breathed, his lips claiming hers again, his fingertips like flames of fire through her shirt, and she thought if he started to unbutton her blouse now, she wouldn't be able to stop him.

But he didn't. Eric cupped and caressed and teased and played through the double-layer of her shirt and bra, his tongue dancing with hers and their breaths growing faster.

Tami was lost in his touch and the taste of the his mouth when he pulled reluctantly away. "We better get going," he said. "Your dad isn't going to be happy if you're back after ten."

Trying to ignore the tingling between her legs, she crawled into the front seat, and Eric followed her to the passenger's side. Tami glanced at his lap before starting the car, but then quickly looked away. She didn't want him to know she'd seen how hard he was.

"What did my dad say to you in his study that night that scared you so much?" she asked as she shifted into drive.

Eric pulled his shirt tail down to hide the bulge in his khakis and then shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm not scared of your father."

"Then why are you so worried about my curfew?"

"Because I gave my word I'd always have you home by curfew."

"You _are_ afraid," she said with slow realization as she pulled out of the parking lot. "You're afraid of _disappointing_ him."

"Yeah," Eric admitted. "I am. So can you drive a little faster?"

Eric did not disappoint the Reverend. Tami dropped him off at his house at 9:51 and was back at hers by 10:01.

"Have a good time?" the Reverend asked when Tami slid onto the living room couch.

Shelley was watching a recorded TV episode again, _The Love Boat_ this time

"Yeah. We went roller skating. It was fun."

The Reverend shut his book. "I took your mother roller skating on our first date."

"Really?" Shelley teased. "I thought y'all had an arranged marriage."

"Trust me, my mother would not have made any such arrangement."

Tami was surprised. "Grandma Hayes didn't like Mom?" They'd gotten along well enough when grandma had lived with them, aside from the occasional bickering. Tami's mother had taken care of the woman in her old age, after all.

"Your grandmother came to accept her in time, but she thought your mother was white trash when I started dating her."

When Tami thought of white trash, she thought of Anita Nisbeth. She certainly didn't think of her mother. Shelley said what Tami was thinking: "Mom? That's hard to believe."

"Well, my parents wanted me to marry an educated woman, not a farm girl who had dropped out of high school."

"Wait," Shelley said, "Mom didn't graduate from high school?"

"Well, she has her G.E.D now," he answered. "And she's perfectly intelligent. But when her mother died, she was sixteen. Her father needed help on the farm, and your aunts and uncles were all under ten at the time. So she put her own schooling on hold and stepped up."

"Wow," Shelley said. "I had no idea."

"Neither of Eric's parents went to college," Tami said.

This should not have surprised Shelley, since she was growing up in a small town where less than half of her high school classmates went on to _any_ kind of college, even two-year ones, but she _did_ appear surprised, perhaps because their parents had always behaved as though college was inevitable. "But Mr. Taylor's totally successful!" Shelley's eyes lit up "Maybe _I_ don't need to go to college."

"You _are_ going to college," the Reverend insisted. " _Both_ of my daughters are going to college. Think what you can achieve. You have so many opportunities open to you these days. It wasn't always like that. When your mother dropped out of high school, most professional women were teachers or nurses, but you could be doctors and deans. They were secretaries, but you could be CEOs. You certainly don't ever have to rely on some man."

"What's wrong with relying on a man?" Shelley challenged him. "Doesn't Mom rely on you?"

"Your mother does a lot of work for the church. She just doesn't get paid for it. And she keeps this home ship running. We rely on _each other_."

"She relies on you to _provide_ ," Shelley said. She waved a hand about the parsonage. "All of this is because of _your_ job."

"True enough," he replied, "and think of this - what if I had turned out to be a jerk? Think how difficult it would be for her to walk away."

"Are you thinking of Mr. and Mrs. Taylor?" Tami asked. Mrs. Taylor had been a single mother and a bar maid when she met Eric's already successful father. Had financial desperation driven her to marry the man?

"I'm thinking of my girls and their futures."

"But you _do_ think Mr. Taylor is a jerk, don't you?" Shelley asked.

"I didn't say that!"

Shelley leaned forward on the couch. "Are you jealous that Mom thinks Mr. Taylor is totally hot?"

"She does not think he's…" the Reverend shook his head. "What a silly word that is. _Hot_."

"Are you and Mr. Taylor going to fight over Mom?" Shelley asked.

"No. Certainly not."

Shelley smiled. "Is he going to fight you because you were flirting with his wife?"

"I was _not_ flirting with his wife. And no, he isn't going to fight me. He wasn't even bothered by it."

"I thought you said there _was_ no _it_ ," Shelley said in a gotcha-voice.

The Reverend waved at the television. "We're not on your _Love Boat_ show, sweet pea. There is _no_ romantic drama here. We're all adults. There will be no fighting of any kind at any time."

"Well that's boring," Shelley said, and sat back in a sulk against the couch. Then she grinned and pointed to the television. "Eric looks like Gopher."

"Oh my God he does not!" Tami shouted. "Gopher? Come on!"

"Yeah, you're right," Shelley said. "Gopher is waaaay hotter."

The Reverend set his book on the end table, stood, and left them to their quarrel.

 **[*]**

Tami saved the file to the cassette tape. She loved this Coleco Adam computer the church had bought in December. It was so much easier than working with a typewriter. The time savings was immense. She now opened the file where she'd saved the letter they sent to new visitors, changed the date and salutation, rolled a sheet of paper into the printer, and entered the print command. The daisy wheel printer sprung to life, its individual keys clacking out the words all by themselves.

Her father's office door opened, and out stepped, very much to her surprise, Mr. Taylor. He paused before Tami's desk and nodded, and she wondered if that was where Eric had gotten his little nod-bow from.

"This thing is amazing, isn't it?" her father asked, coming to stand with one hand on his hip and looking at the printer clack its way to completion.

"You should have gotten an Apple Macintosh," Mr. Taylor said. "It's the wave of the future. Coleco just discontinued the Adam. In three years, I bet you won't even be able to buy ribbons for that printer. My printer is a dot matrix."

"I really don't think the elders would have approved of us spending $2,500 on a computer," Tami's father replied. "I mean, that's more than I make in a month. But I guess Taylor's is doing very well."

"Yes, it is, in part because I make good investments, such as buying a Macintosh that will last me for the next eight years instead of a computer I won't be able to find parts for in three years."

Tami looked down at the keyboard.

"Well, churches aren't businesses," the Reverend said coolly.

"No, but they ought to be good stewards of the money put in the offering plate."

"Absolutely. Which is precisely why we bought a $750 computer instead of a $2,500 one."

"I got mine for $2,195 actually. I know how to drive a bargain."

"Good for you," the Reverend said. "Shall I walk you out?"

The men disappeared down the hall. When her father returned, Tami said, "What was _he_ doing in your office? You weren't counseling him, were you?"

"No. He came to settle my bar tab. I haven't been to Taylor's in a few weeks, and I forgot I'd left one open."

"I'm sorry if I ruined your whole bar time thing with Eric by dating him."

"He does seem rather more reluctant to talk to me now," her father said. "But that's only to be expected. And I don't have time to hang out at Taylor's now, anyway, with all this exercise your mother demands I perform. Is Eric treating you well?"

"Very well, Daddy."

Her father rapped his knuckles on her desk. "Good then. Run that bulletin by me before you copy it." He started toward his office, but then he paused and turned. "I don't know why your mother thinks that man is so good looking."

"Don't worry, Daddy. You're devilishly handsome yourself," Tami said with a teasing smile.

"That's not true, but I did manage to win the hand of a gorgeous woman _anyway_." He nodded to himself. "Without wealth _or_ looks, I still won her."

"Mom and I don't always see eye to eye," Tami said, "But she's got good taste."

"You, Tami, are my pride and joy." He chuckled and disappeared into his office.


	39. This Is Not a Football Game

Tami popped into the coffee shop to study on Tuesday evening after work and to visit with Eric. When he walked her home later, she told him about their fathers' confrontation over the computer.

"My dad thinks he knows everything," Eric said. "And it's annoying as hell. But the thing of it is…he's probably right about that. When it comes to business, he's usually right."

"Well don't tell my dad you think so."

"What was he even doing there?" Eric asked.

"Settling my dad's bar tab."

Eric shook his head. "He said he was going to write that off. It was maybe $10. I bet they were really talking about us."

"Us?" Tami asked. "What would they be talking about?"

"My dad probably cross-examined your father about you."

"Oh Good Lord."

When they arrived at the parsonage, Mrs. Hayes invited Eric to stay for dinner. He called and checked in with his mother, who said it would be fine.

"Would you say our grace, Eric?" the Reverend asked him when they were all seated.

Eric seemed nervous to be put on the spot, but he obliged, quickly muttering, "Thank you O Lord for this food and for the hands that prepared it. Amen."

"Well, that was succinct," Mrs. Hayes said.

"Brevity is the soul of wit, my dear," the Reverend told her.

"Well, Edward, keep that in mind when you write your next sermon."

Eric snorted and then immediately swallowed the laugh. Dishes were passed, and food was consumed. "This cooking is fantastic, ma'am," Eric said.

"Why do you assume I didn't do the cooking?" Reverend Hayes asked.

"Well…I…uh…."

"Because you're a man of your time, Edward," Mrs. Hayes said.

"I'm a man very much _ahead_ of my time, Linda, you just don't appreciate how good you have it."

Mrs. Hayes laughed.

Eric smiled.

Shelley said, "So…. _Eric_ ….do you know #36?"

"Number…what?" Eric asked.

"Mason Davenport?"

"Uh…" Eric shook his head slightly. "I think he's JV."

"Yeah, but he played for a little while in the fourth varsity game."

"Shelley," the Reverend said, "in an ocean full of fish, why must you gravitate toward the bottom feeders?"

"Mason is not a bottom feeder!" Shelley turned to Eric. "Do _you_ think Mason's a bottom feeder?"

"I…uh…. I don't really know him very well. But you should really listen to your dad."

Shelley rolled her eyes.

"Shelley isn't allowed to have a boyfriend until her junior year, so it's a moot point," Mrs. Hayes said. "Eric, do you plan to work during college?"

"Yes, ma'am. Youth coaching."

"Aren't those mostly volunteer positions?" she asked.

"Well, I'll probably be working for an after-school and summer daycare-type sports camp. So I'd be coaching, but also kind of babysitting."

Tami smiled at the idea of Eric trying to herd a gaggle of kids.

"I can't believe my little girl is heading off to college soon," the Reverend said. "Just leaving the nest. No thought for your old man."

"Or your mother," Mrs. Hayes said. "Think how much more attention your father's going to need when you're gone."

"I _am_ a lot of work," the Reverend agreed. "For such a modern man."

Mrs. Hayes shook her head and suppressed smile.

When Eric was leaving later, and he and Tami were standing in the doorway to the parsonage, he said, "Your family's fun. Your parents...they really seem to like each other."

"Well I should hope so," Tami said. "But they've worked at their marriage too."

"I wish mine would work at it."

"Do they fight a lot?"

"Nah." He shrugged. "They _never_ fight."

"I hated it when my parents were fighting a lot," she said, "but sweeping things under the rug probably doesn't help either."

"My mom's rug," he said, raising his hand to be level with his head, "is probably about this high by now."

[*]

When Eric got off work at the coffee shop on Thursday evening, he took Tami out for a Valentine's day dinner at the only place you could be waited on in town - Taylor's. He promised Tami's parents to have her home by 9:30, since it was a school night.

The sports bar had actually been decorated for Valentine's Day, and there were candles on all of the tables. The menu had even been altered for the occasion to contain selections a bit fancier than your typical pub fare. There were lot of couples around, and almost no one alone at the bar.

"Your dad sure has changed the place," Tami said.

"You went to the Drunken Kickoff?" he asked with surprise.

"No, but I heard the cops went there a lot."

Eric chuckled. "Well, it's not like this all the time. I mean, it's always decent, but…not this nice. He's trying to cash in on Valentine's Day. My mom says he's great at marketing."

"He doesn't strike me as much of a salesman."

"Well, he does a lot of research and runs numbers. He doesn't succeed because he's in tune with the human heart."

Tami smirked and then looked around the bar. Mr. Taylor was nowhere in sight. She wondered how often he actually set foot in his own bar.

"You're going to have to meet them soon, you know," Eric said. "My parents."

"I've met them. I talk to them at church every Sunday." Well, she talked to _Mrs_. Taylor, anyway.

"No. I mean, you're going to have to come for dinner at our house."

"Oh." Her voice betrayed her dislike of the idea.

"The thought of sitting down to a full meal with my dad is kind of intimidating, huh?" he asked.

"Maybe," she admitted.

"I understand that, but you've got to do it if we're going to be…you know. Serious."

"Are we going to be serious?" she asked with a smile.

He took her hand across the table. "I'd like to be." He reached in his pocket and pushed a small gift across the table. She had a gift for him too, a pair of blue jeans, folded tightly, wrapped in sparkling red paper, and taking up most of the space in her hand bag. She fished it out and set it on the table in front of him.

"Open mine first," he said.

She did. It was his State Championship ring on a silver chain.

"That's from my junior year. When I lead the Hawks. I'll switch it out for Rankin's when we finally get them."

Smiling, she took the ring out. He walked around the table to help her clasp the chain. His fingers lingered on her neck for a moment before he sat back down.

She caressed the ring between her fingers. "I think I want to keep this one," she said. "I know it's not _my_ high school, but…I bet it was your finest hour. And it means a lot to me that you would give it to me."

"You know it means I want to go steady with you, right?" Eric asked.

"Yeah. I guessed as much."

"So you accepting it means – "

"- I want to go steady, too."

He smiled.

As far as Tami was concerned, they already _were_ going steady. It wasn't as if she'd dated anyone since Mo, or he'd dated anyone since he moved to Rankin. But it was nice to have the official symbol of his commitment hanging from her neck. Then _everyone_ in school would know his intentions.

She gestured to his present. He opened it and laughed when he saw the jeans inside.

"Welcome to the 20th century," she told him. "And tell you father to stick those khakis in his pipe and smoke them."

"I thought every girl was crazy about a sharp dressed man."

"Well, the khakhis are okay, and I _really_ love to see you in a suit and tie." She kind of wished he'd worn one tonight, even though it would have been overkill for Taylor's. She'd put on a flattering dress herself. "But…jeans and a tight white T-shirt are pretty hot."

His eyes twinkled. "I'll keep that in mind." Eric set the jeans on the floor under the table. She knew he was looking at her legs while he did it, because he drew himself slowly up before he was sitting upright again. "How did you know my size?" he asked.

"Jack told me."

"How did _Jack_ know my size?"

Tami smiled mischievously. "I told him to snoop around the last time he was at your house and report back."

"Ah. I wonder what he was up to that day."

After they'd eaten, but before the plates were cleared, Tami said, "I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it."

Tami had decided she needed to be very direct with him. She'd been thinking about her past and wondering if maybe all those adults who kept saying that the developing teenage brain wasn't "ready" for sex possibly had a point. "I know this is going to sound strange, because you know I'm not a virgin. But…" Tami figured she should tell him this now, because their make-out sessions were already so full of electrifying chemistry, that she thought it was only a matter of time before he was moving toward sex, especially now that he'd given her that ring. "I've decided I'm not having sex as long as I'm in high school."

" _All_ of high school?" he asked, as though there were years and years remaining, instead of a little over three months.

"Maybe longer," she insisted boldly. "Maybe through my first semester of college."

" _College?_ "

"I should have taken that approach all along. It might have saved me a lot of heartache."

He looked at her and blinked.

She swallowed. "I understand if that's too much for you. If you want to end it now," her confidence trembled, as did her voice, on that part of her rehearsed speech, "we can walk away as friends." She didn't _want_ to walk away as friends, of course, but she wanted to be clear how important this was to her.

"But…I'm _already_ insanely in love with you."

"I can't be held responsible for that," she said, though her heart was seizing at his blatant admission of love.

"You _are_ responsible for that," he said. "I couldn't possibly be this in love with anyone else."

"Well, then I guess you'll have to take a lot of long showers."

[*]

When they were parked a little ways down from the parsonage that night, he just sat in the truck, staring through the windshield.

"Are you going to walk me to the door?" she asked.

"Yeah. In a minute." He finally turned to look at her. "Could I please have some guidelines?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you when you said you don't want to have sex for the rest of high school, and I respect that. I mean, I respect _you_. But I could use some guidelines. How far…uh…are we going to...you know?"

"Let's just let that unwind naturally," she said.

"But where is the end zone now?" he asked. "I mean, I understand it's been moved in – and that's fine, really, but - where is it now, exactly? I just need to know where it is."

"This isn't a football game, Eric. I won't be upset if you _try_ for something, but then if I say no, or I move your hand away, or whatever…"

"So I just have to play offense and you'll take care of the stops?"

She laughed. "Yeah. I guess. If that's how you need to see it."

"But you _will_ take care of the stops?" he asked. "Because...I can't play both sides. Honestly, Tami, I get confused sometimes. I think you want things you don't, and then I think you don't want things, and you take my hand and you..." His eyes fell to her breasts.

"Well, you know, sometimes you gain yardage." She smiled.

"So, if you make a stop, is it okay if I try that play again later? Or do you automatically get the ball? I mean, how many downs do I have?"

"You can try again," she told him, "but not the same night."

He nodded. "A'ight."

"And don't try to make me feel guilty, because it won't work."

"Why would I try to make you feel guilty?"

"Some guys do that."

He put a hand on her knee, where her dress ended. She could feel the warmth of his palm through her panty hose. He looked into her eyes and began to caress the inside of her leg, just beneath the edge of her dress, ever so slightly, with a single fingertip. He leaned in and kissed her, so softly that she was thirsty for more, and she pushed her lips firmly against his. Just when the kiss was beginning to deepen, he pulled back.

"Guys who play dirty," he said, his voice a little husky, "don't appreciate the game."

Tami thought his truck must have somehow slipped into neutral, because she had the sensation that they were rolling.


	40. Dinner with Dad

**A/N:** In answer to one reviewer's question, yes, some high schools did use to have student smoking lounges in the U.S., particularly in the southern states. Most of the smoking lounges were done away with by the 80s, but some lasted until the mid to late 80s. Smoking ages were set by the individual states and some had no minimum age, some had 16.

 **[*]**

Tami and Eric had been making out for several minutes now, and the heat had begun to seep out of the turned-off car, but they'd done their part to fog up the windows of her Pontiac with some steam of their own.

Eric undid the top button of her blouse and then moved his hand to the second, but he didn't unfasten it right away. When she did nothing to stop him, however, he slid it slowly loose. Then the next button…and the next…and the next. He drew back and looked at her with her shirt open and her lacy, red bra exposed. "God, you're beautiful." The sun was setting, and it was growing dark, but not so dark he couldn't see her. She blushed beneath his admiring gaze.

He touched the naked flesh just above her breasts, where it had grown red, and then dipped his hand into her bra. He let one fingertip stray to a nipple. Heat jolted through her, but Tami drew out his hand and pressed it back to her bra. "Just on top."

"A'ight." He leaned in again, pressed his lips to hers, and began to feel her through her bra. She moaned against his lips. Tami wanted that hand back _inside_ her bra, but she didn't tell him that. If she didn't put on the brakes a few feet before she actually wanted to, she was sure they'd keep sliding down that hill until they coasted to the very bottom.

[*]

"You're not going to last," Kimberley told her. "You're not even going to make it to prom."

Tami jerked the joy stick to the left just in time to avoid a ghost, and Ms. Pac-Man devoured a power pellet. "I will too," she insisted, pulling down hard and then left until Ms. Pac-Man had eaten the last four dots. They were sitting on Kimberley's living room floor, late Sunday afternoon, before the Atari 5200.

On the screen flashed _Act II: The Chase_. The Pac-mans ran across the screen in romantic pursuit until they kissed.

"I've never made it past Act III," Kimberley said. "What's Act IV? Divorce?"

Tami began the next round. "I think it's just more kids."

 _Blew-blew-blew_ went her dying Ms. Pac-Man as a ghost gobbled her up.

Kimberley started her turn. "I give you until April 15th," she said, "before you go all the way with him."

"Not happening," Tami insisted, even though the physical component of her relationship with Eric continued to surprise her. She hadn't expected that someone as seemingly reserved as Eric could make her fear she was not in control of her own desires. "I'm serious about this. I'm waiting until I'm at least 19, maybe 20, to have sex again. I should have waited that long in the first place."

"Wish you hadn't thrown it away on Mo?"

Kimberley didn't know about Boone, and Tami wasn't inclined to correct her. "Yeah."

"You won't regret it with Eric, though," Kimberley said. "Even if y'all break up, it won't be because he cheated on you."

"I'm still waiting until I'm older," Tami insisted.

"You'll be older in April."

"It _can_ be done," Tami assured her. "People _can_ date and make out and _not_ go all the way."

"You don't have to tell _me_ ," Kimberley sighed. "I'm dating a monk." Her Ms. Pac-Man died. _Game Over._ Kimberley clicked the Atari off and pulled the cartridge out. She switched out the joysticks for the paddles and put in Ka-Boom and selected two players.

Tami started catching bombs.

"Isn't he getting impatient?" Kimberley asked. "I mean, Jack's a virgin. But Eric was _used_ to having sex, right?"

"We talked about it. He's okay with it."

"Really?"

"Well he's not going to break up with me over it, anyway," Tami said. "And he's being good. He's patient but persistent."

"When do you have to go for dinner with his parents?"

Tami sighed. "I've put off two invitations. I can't keep doing that. I said yes to Thursday night."

"Mr. Taylor's pretty good looking for almost fifty," Kimberley said. "I saw him at a couple of the games. Mrs. Flannigan was totally checking out his ass. So was the Home Ec teacher."

"Oh, good Lord, Kim, please do not talk about Mr. Taylor's ass."

Kimberley laughed. "He's really fit. What do you suppose he does to work out?"

Tami shook her head. All of the bombs exploded on the game as she missed her last one.

"You could ask him at dinner," Kimberley suggested with a smirk. "If you're looking for conversation topics."

[*]

The Taylor's one-story rambler was about twice the square footage of the town-house-style parsonage and exceedingly tidy. There weren't a lot of signs of life, unlike in the parsonage, where her father's books were scattered, bookmarks inserted, in every room, where her mother's cross-stitch projects could be found lying about, and where Shelley's backpack and shoes were always in the hallway, ready to be tripped over.

The Taylor dining room sported classic, sturdy, cherry brown furniture. Two Thomas Kincaid paintings lined either side of the hutch. That must have been Eric's mother's doing. Tami couldn't imagine Mr. Taylor making such a sentimental choice.

Eric's mother waited on them, while Mr. Taylor sat king-like at the head of the table, not even offering a hand. Not that Tami's own father usually offered a hand unless prodded to do so by her mother, but Tami's mother _did_ prod, sometimes with an iron.

For a while, Eric's mother carried the conversation, while his father observed silently. She asked after the Reverend, saying, "He looked very well this past Sunday," and Tami told her that his new diet and exercise regime (Mrs. Hayes was making him take long, daily walks with her) along with the medicine was helping, and that he was now back in full swing with all of his responsibilities.

Mr. Taylor spoke. "I didn't like that fellow who was preaching in place of your father while he was recovering. That man's sermons were so insipid. No substance at all. All popular culture. They weren't insightful like your father's. They had no literary or historical references whatsoever."

Tami raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you tell my father that literary and historical referenced didn't play well in a small – "

"- Have you heard back from any of the colleges you applied to?" Mrs. Taylor interrupted her.

Tami looked from father to his mother. It seemed Mrs. Taylor's method of managing her husband was appeasement and redirection. Tami thought her own mother preferred a riding crop.

"I got accepted to both UNT and UT-Dallas," she replied. The letters had come in the mail, one day after the other, earlier this week.

"Well, if you want to visit those two campuses over spring break," Mrs. Taylor said, "I'm sure Eric's sister Kathleen would let you stay with her. Her apartment is 30 minutes from UT-Dallas and about 50 minutes from UNT."

"That would be very kind of her," Tami said.

"Tami was also waitlisted at TMU," Eric added. She'd shared that bit of news with him at school this morning. His face had flickered between excitement and disappointment at the half-good news. He seemed to have really believed she would be admitted.

"A _long_ way down the list," Tami reminded him.

"But the fact you made the list," Eric said, "probably means it should be really easy to transfer to TMU after your freshman year, if you do well. Which you will."

"Why would she want to transfer to TMU?" Mr. Taylor asked. "It's overpriced."

"It's a top tier school," Eric said.

"So is A&M, and it's _half_ the price."

"Well I have a _full scholarship_ to TMU, Dad."

"Yes," his father replied. "but Tami doesn't. And she isn't likely to get one, is she?"

Eric stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork.

"Are those the _only_ colleges to which you were admitted?" Mr. Taylor asked Tami. "Eric said you were an _honor roll_ student."

"I am," Tami answered. "This year and last. I did okay my freshman year, but not quite honor roll. And my sophomore year…I had some struggles, and I didn't do well, G.P.A. wise."

"What struggles?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"Just…" Tami could feel the heat rising to her face.

"John," Mrs. Taylor said, "you remember that bad year you had, with the bar in San Antonio. It was probably like that. But you regrouped, and your next year your returns were exceptional."

"That was because a tornado took half the roof off, Janet. I don't recall any tornados hitting Rankin High."

"It was a bad year for me," Tami said. "And I made some mistakes. But I learned from them. That's a good thing."

"It's an even better thing not to make mistakes in the first place," Mr. Taylor said.

"Should we have dessert?" Mrs. Taylor asked cheerfully.

"Now that volleyball season is over," Mr. Taylor asked Tami when his wife had headed to the kitchen, "do you do anything besides work for your own father?"

"I study a lot," she said. "And I like to read for pleasure."

Mr. Taylor said his next words more like a command than a question. "The last book you read for pleasure."

"Uh…. _Christine_."

"Genre."

Tami glanced at Eric. She wondered what it was like to live with this man on a day-to-day basis. Eric leaned toward her and whispered, "He wants to know what genre the book is."

"It's horror," Tami said. "It's by Stephen King."

"Synopsis," Mr. Taylor demanded.

"Uh…it's about this car," Tami told him, "that comes to life and starts killing people on its own."

"Cars don't come to life," Mr. Taylor said. "Why would anyone want to imagine they do?"

Mrs. Taylor returned with a pie in one hand and a stack of plates topped with four forks and a server in the other hand. Tami wished she'd volunteered to help her now. Eric helped take the plates off her hands and began passing them around.

"Well, it's a story," Tami said. "He's a good writer. Stephen King. What was the last book you read, Mr. Taylor?"

"The Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission's latest _Industry Guide_."

"Oh," Tami said. She took the fork Eric had just handed her. "Was that…interesting?"

"It conveyed necessary information."

Mrs. Taylor took charge of the conversation again, while Mr. Taylor fell silent. She asked Tami about school, her work at the church, her past volleyball season, her sister, and her interests.

When the pie was gone, and the dishes were cleared (Tami did offer to help this time, though she was turned down) and decaf coffee was served, Mr. Taylor said, "Tami, you should attempt to transfer to UT-Austin after your freshman year. UT-Austin has a superb academic reputation, but it's also a state school, so it's affordable."

Tami had thought about that possibility already. She knew she couldn't get in now, but in year? With an impressive freshman performance? She might. But she didn't want to admit that Mr. Taylor might have a good idea.

"It would still be near Eric," Mr. Taylor continued. "TMU is only thirty minutes from UT-Austin."

Did that mean Mr. Taylor expected them to be together in college? Had she somehow managed to receive his stamp of approval?

"What do you plan to do when you graduate from college?" Mr. Taylor asked.

"I'd like to be a therapist."

"Oh, how interesting," Eric's mother said. "What kind of therapist?"

"Maybe a family counselor," Tami ventured. "Or a youth counselor. I'm not sure. I'm going to major in psychology."

"That's not a very marketable degree," Mr. Taylor said. "You'd have to go onto grad school to get any respectably lucrative work in that field. You should major in computer science. It's the wave of the future. And you already know how to use a computer, even if it's only a Coleco. That puts you ahead of the curve compared to a lot of high school girls. I bet you could learn quickly."

"Tami doesn't want to study computer science, Dad." Eric pushed his plate aside. "She'd make a very good therapist. She's great at getting people to talk."

"So are bartenders," Mr. Taylor replied, "and there will always be a lot more job openings in _that_ field than in psychology, I guarantee you."

Tami could see Eric was growing angry. "Dad, you think you know - "

"- So, Mr. Taylor," Tami asked suddenly, "what do you do to work out?"


	41. We All Have Something

Tami expected Mr. Taylor to be rattled by the sudden off-topic question, but he answered it matter-of-factly and without pause. "I run routes with Eric every morning at 5:55 AM."

 _5:55 AM_ , Tami thought. _Not 6:00, not 5:30, but 5:55._ She found the specificity peculiar. She also couldn't imagine dragging herself out of bed that early, let alone to work-out. Poor Eric. "Do you enjoy football?" she asked.

"I'm not particularly skilled at football," he said. "But I've studied it enough to know how to aid Eric in running the routes. I don't lift weights, but I unload the boxes off the trucks into the backroom of the bar, and I suppose that helps me to maintain muscle tone."

"They don't have men to do that?" Tami asked.

"The delivery men never align the boxes properly. I'd just as soon do it myself."

After dinner, Mrs. Taylor offered to show her Eric's baby photos in the living room, while Eric and his father went out on the back porch to repair a loose plank that Mr. Taylor insisted could not wait until morning. Tami, glad to have dinner over with, followed Eric's mother to the living room.

Mr. Taylor must have been taking most of the baby photos, because he was only in one of them in the first four pages of the book. He looked much younger and very tired.

"He was working so many hours back then," Mrs. Taylor explained. "And then helping out at home, too, because I had the c-section."

"How did you two fall in love?" Tami asked, because she couldn't ask, _Why did you marry him? You two are so different._

"We met at work." This much Tami knew from Eric. "John was managing a bar at the time, and he hired me to be a waitress. He was kind to me, with the pay and the scheduling and letting me bring Kathleen sometimes." Tami knew that too. "When he asked me to marry him, it was quite the surprise. We'd only been on two dates."

That Tami had _not_ known. "What?"

"John's a few years older than me. He was 26 and well established. He thought it was time he should start a family. He wanted someone to manage things at home, because he was getting ready to buy his own bar and knew he'd be working longer hours. He also wanted two children before he was 32, and I already had one. And I suppose he thought I was pretty."

"Did you say yes right away?"

Mrs. Taylor nodded.

"Why?" Tami realized it was a horribly rude question as soon it was out, but she couldn't take it back.

Mrs. Taylor, fortunately, did not appear offended. Perhaps she didn't offend easily. That could explain her tolerance for her husband. "John's a little rough around the edges, but he's always been stable. I can rely on him. Always. He's a faithful husband and a good provider. And I didn't meet a lot of men who were interested in dating single mothers in the early 1960s. It was a hard life. Kathleen and I were very much alone."

Tami was surprised Mrs. Taylor was telling her all this. Was she trying to make sure Tami didn't judge Eric – or her – by Mr. Taylor's behavior? Tami wondered if Eric's mother ever regretted her decision to marry.

Mrs. Taylor turned a page of the album. "Wasn't Eric a cute baby?" she asked.

"Adorable," Tami agreed, and wondered how lonely Mrs. Taylor was going to be when her last baby was out of the house.

"He was a happy baby," Mrs. Taylor said. "He's grown up to be so serious. But I see _you've_ gotten him to smile more."

They talked a while longer before Tami said, "I think I should get going. I should go say goodbye to your husband."

"Go on ahead," Mrs. Taylor said as she stood. "I'm going to wrap up a couple of pieces of that pie for you to bring home to your family."

Tami made her way to the door that led to the back porch. The inner door was open, so she could hear their voices out there through the screen door.

"She's very pretty," Mr. Taylor was saying.

"Yes," Eric answered. "She is."

"Perhaps a little _too_ pretty."

"How can a girl be _too_ pretty?" Eric asked.

"I don't want you to be distracted by that."

"Distracted…how?"

"From judging whether or not she has substance. Substance is essential, Eric. Take your mother, for example."

" _Mom's_ pretty."

"Yes...true enough. She's beautiful. But I didn't let that distract me from determining whether or not she had substance. Your mother can endure any hardship, Eric. She successfully provided for and raised a child, entirely on her own, for two years, despite being abandoned by her husband."

"Uh…yeah."

"And she's an effective manager of this household. Her candle never goes out. She has a very strong work ethic, your mother."

"Dad, I'm not looking for a work horse. And besides, Tami _does_ have a strong work ethic."

"Can you envision yourself married to this girl?"

"We've only been dating two months!"

"Is that a no?" Mr. Taylor asked. "You _couldn't_ possibly envision yourself married to her?"

"No, it's definitely not a _no_. It's just...I'm only 18."

"Could you envision yourself married to Lisa? When you were dating her, could you envision it?"

"I...no. No. I really couldn't."

"See. It's an intellectual exercise, Eric. If you can't at least _envision_ it, you're wasting your time."

Eric sighed. "Dad, romantic relationships aren't mathematical equations."

"Are you using prophylactics?"

"I…we…we're not..." Eric stuttered.

"You're not? How could you be so foolish?"

"I mean, we're _not_ having sex."

" _Oh_. Well that's even better. You know, abstinence is the only hundred percent effective form of birth control."

"Yes, sir. I know that."

Tami had eavesdropped too long. She shut the inner door part way, and then made a lot of noise opening it again, so that they knew she was coming when she stepped out on the porch and bade Mr. Taylor goodbye.

[*]

Eric walked Tami to her car. He kissed her by the driver's side, and then stepped back to let her get in, but she didn't right away. Instead, she said, "Your mom's a little bit passive around your dad."

"I know. I told you. She doesn't like to make waves. She's a peacemaker."

"Well I hope you don't expect me to be like that." If and when he was _envisioning_ them married, she hoped he didn't _envision_ her like that.

"We talked about this before we were even dating," he said. "Remember? I said I want a girl who stands up for herself, so I won't turn into my father. And I'm _aware_ you're no shrinking violet."

"I don't think you're in any danger of turning into your father," she reassured him.

"I'm sorry you had to sit through that dinner. Thank you for doing it."

"Eric, listen…I don't know how to say this. Your dad is weird."

"Tell me about it. I told you he was a pain in the ass."

"No, Eric, I mean…he's _weird_." Tami was starting to wonder if there was something not quite normal about the man, if, her earlier joking aside, maybe there really _was_ a category for him the _DSM_. Perhaps Mr. Taylor wasn't aware of how he appeared, not because he was a jerk, but because something wasn't fully connecting in the social-emotional part of his brain.

"What's that mean?"

"I don't know. I just…I think maybe he has something….psychological."

"Well, we _all_ have _something_ ," Eric said. "Isn't that what keeps the shrinks in business?"

"Are you knocking my future profession?"

"No!" He looked suddenly alarmed. "No. Not at all. I just – "

She laughed. "I'm teasing." She kissed him.

He pressed his forehead to hers. "I wish I knew what my mother saw in him."

"I suppose he gets the job done."

Eric pulled back. "Eww."

"I wasn't talking about in bed! I meant, he's stable."

"Yeah. But he's not exactly the epitome of charm."

She laughed. She kissed his nose. "You're pretty charming, though. Where did you learn all that?"

"I pay attention to the women in my life. I figured out I could learn a lot from them." He winked at her. "They know stuff." He opened her car door.

She smiled and kissed him before she climbed inside.

[*]

When Tami got home that night, the usual pattern was playing out in the parsonage. Her mother had gone to bed early. Shelley was watching a recorded TV show – _Who's the Boss_ , this time – and her father was in the arm chair reading some book called _Ender's Game_. The cover looked very space-like.

"I didn't know you liked sci-fi," Tami said.

"I don't much," he replied. "But I've heard a lot of the youth in the congregation talk about this book, and some of the elders complain about it, so I figured I ought to know what's in it."

"What _is_ in it?" Shelley asked. "Anything risqué?'

"Not unless you consider training ten year olds to kill risqué," he said.

Shelley seemed to lose interest immediately. She smirked at Tami and pointed to the T.V. "Tony Danza kind of looks like Eric."

"I'm not biting this time, Shell. I'm sorry you're jealous that my boyfriend looks like he should be a T.V. star."

"I'm not even a little bit jealous! He's so uncool." Shelley stood up and went over and switched off the TV and VCR. "I'm going to my room to read."

"Excellent," her father said. "It's good to see you interested in reading again, Shelley. You used to read so much when you were younger. And remember when you were writing those novels? Whatever happened to your love of writing?"

"I got bored," she said. "'Nite, y'all." She disappeared toward the stairs.

When Shelley was gone, the Reverend asked. "How did dinner go?"

"It was uncomfortable."

"I imagine."

"Mr. Taylor told me where I should go to school, what I should study, and what I shouldn't be interested in reading. And Mrs. Taylor….she's pretty passive. I don't understand how a woman can be that passive."

"That's because you're your mother's daughter. But do you think your mother's management style would work on Mr. Taylor?"

"I don't understand what you're suggesting," Tami said.

"I'm suggesting that the woman probably knows her husband, and she probably influences him more than you imagine she does. Is he not planning to walk away from a very successful bar, to sell it and move to Dallas for _her_? Because _she_ wants to be near her daughter?"

"I didn't think of it that way. But she doesn't push back when Mr. Taylor acts like…he's so…" Tami sighed in frustration. "What do you think of him, Daddy? I mean, _really_ think of him?"

"I think he's a better man than I am."

"What? You do _not!_ "

"Has Eric told you about his father's childhood?"

"He said Mr. Taylor's mom died when he was young, and his stepdad was kind of a mess and neglected him."

"He grew up in squalor, without much adult guidance, no mother's affection, and he struck out on his own at fifteen."

"Yeah," she said. "Eric told me all that. And he said you told him that maybe that's why he became so rigid and controlling, to bring order to the chaos."

"Everyone has a different starting line in life, Tami. Me…I had two married parents who respected one another. I grew up in a stable, solidly middle-class house full of books and mostly full of love. I was given an excellent education and I was taught a clear morality. It would be ridiculous for me to pat myself on the back for being a decent enough husband and father. I had every reason to be. Eric's father may not seem like a good father or husband to you, but if I had grown up in the conditions he lived in as a boy…" The Reverend shook his head. "I don't think I would own a bar and provide for a family and come home to my wife and children every day. I think maybe I'd be drinking myself _under_ the bar."

"But what do you think of him as a psychologist?" Tami asked. "I mean, do you see him in the _DSM_?"

"I don't diagnose people who don't come to me for diagnoses, Tami. I just try to love them. I don't always succeed, but I _try_."

"But…" she said. "He's kind of… _off_. Do you know what I mean?"

"Well I don't think whatever he has is hereditary, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I'm not. Eric's _reserved_ , certainly, but he's perfectly aware of people's feelings, especially mine. He's nothing at all like his father."

"Well that might be going too far," the Reverend said. "Whether he wants to admit it or not, Eric has _some_ of his father in him. But he also has some of his mother in him, and mostly he just has a lot of Eric Taylor in him. You can't escape your roots, Tami, not entirely. But you can grow beyond them." He stood and set his book on the end table. "You'll grow beyond me, beyond your mother. You'll fly this coop soon." He smiled, and it was such a sad, tender smile that it made Tami want to cry.

She stood and hugged him. "I'll always visit often."

He hugged her back and then pulled away. "No, you won't. You'll have a busy life to live before long. But it's nice that you think so now. I love you, princess."

"I love you, too, Daddy."

Tami watched him make his way down the hall toward the stairs and felt that as he was moving away, her childhood was moving away with him.


	42. Meeting Kathleen

During spring break, Eric drove to TMU to meet his future teammates and do a little informal training with his soon-to-be coaches, while Tami drove to Dallas to visit and explore the two colleges that had accepted her, with the map Eric had drawn to his big sister's apartment resting on the dashboard.

She left bright and early Saturday morning and arrived in the mid-afternoon. Kathleen must have been watching for her out her apartment window, because as soon as Tami was standing outside the three-story apartment complex, scanning the façade for numbers, Eric's big sister emerged on her balcony and hollered, "Tami Hayes?"

Tami looked up and nodded.

"Come on up!"

Tami had seen Kathleen's early childhood photos, where the girl was blonde, but she had expected her to be a brunette by now, and she had also anticipated that she would have grown tall like her brother. Yet Kathleen was a 5'4", curvy young woman with golden blonde hair and green eyes, and Tami was suddenly reminded that Mr. Taylor was not Kathleen's biological father.

Eric's big sister settled her into the guest bedroom and then took her on a driving tour around the city, pointing out where JFK was shot, and telling her of other less morbid highlights. Then she took her out to dinner at an Indian restaurant. Tami had never eaten Indian food in her life.

When she tried to put in money for her share of the bill, Kathleen insisted on paying. "You're a high school student," she said. "I'm an actuary. Let me."

Tami wondered what actuaries made, but she wasn't even sure what they _did_. "What's your job like?"

"I crunch a lot of numbers. I analyze risk for companies. It's not exciting, but it pays well, and I love math. I majored in it. But it's weird sometimes, because I'm the only girl in the office."

That evening, Tami met Kathleen's fiancé Ian, a studious looking twenty-three year old with large-rimmed glasses, a slightly plump figure, but an attractive face. He was polite and friendly to her, but he soon retreated to their bedroom to study.

"He has law school finals coming up in a month," Kathleen explained. "He attends full-time. I guess you could say I'm working on my putting-hubby-through degree. Well, he's not quite my hubby yet. We get married in July."

"Where does he go to law school?"

"A&M has an extension in Dallas." Kathleen was drinking wine, and she offered Tami some. "You're 18, right?" There was talk of raising the state drinking age to 21 next year, to ensure the federal government didn't cut off highway funding, but for now it was still 18.

"Yes, but I've never had wine," Tami said. "I've only had beer, and I don't like it all that much."

"I'll start you on something sweet then. I'll open the Moscato my boss gave me for my one-year work anniversary."

Tami _did_ like it.

"Eventually, you'll move up to the drier whites," Kathleen assured her. "And you won't be able to stand that stuff anymore. I can't. You can have the whole bottle."

Tami laughed. "I'd be under that coffee table if I had it _all_."

They talked for a while, sipping and laughing. Eric's big sister was very outgoing. She volunteered to take Tami around both school campuses on Sunday and said she would even introduce her to a friend she had who attended grad school at UT-Dallas. "I like you better than Eric's last girlfriend," she told Tami. "I only met her twice. She was okay, but Eric needs a lot of sunshine in his life. You're like a barrel full of sunshine."

Tami didn't know if it was the wine or Kathleen's comment that made her so giggly. It _was_ probably the wine, though, that made her so forward in her following question: "Are y'all planning on kids?"

"We'll probably start trying in four years. By then Ian will have at least two years of work under his belt, and I'll be about six years into my career. Then it will be his turn to provide, and I'll quit and stay home with the kids."

"You don't want to keep working?" Tami asked, a little surprised, since Kathleen seemed to have such a good job.

"I loved having my mother home with me," she said, "once she got married and was _able_ to be home. I don't know if Eric told you, but my mom was a single mother for a short while."

"He did. Do y'all have a good relationship?" Tami asked. "You and your…Mr. Taylor?"

"My _father_. I call him my father, not my stepfather. He's the man who raised me, after all, since I was very little. I've never known any other father. And, to answer your question…Not exactly. He can be critical and demanding and a little controlling, as I'm sure you've seen with Eric."

Tami nodded. She took another sip of her wine.

"But I don't resent him the way Eric does. And I don't know if that's because I've gotten some distance and experience, or if it's because the father-son dynamic is so different from the father-daughter one."

"Was he as hard on you as he is on Eric?"

"I think he's been a bit harder on Eric, partly because Eric is a boy, and partly because Eric is _biologically_ his, although, in general, he never treated me as if I was anything but his own daughter." She sighed. "He's not an easy man to live with, my father. But he was at least _there_. At every birthday, every music recital, every graduation. Even though he was demanding when I was growing up, and his expectations were really high, at least he _had_ expectations for me. When the school shook their head at the silly _blonde girl_ who wanted to skip ahead a year in math, my father marched right in there and demanded they put me in the next level. He expected us to excel at whatever we were good at, expected too much, maybe, but at least he _recognized_ what we were good at. For me it was math and music, and for Eric, football."

"Your mom said they barely dated before they got married."

"Yeah, I know. Sounds crazy, right?"

"A little," Tami admitted.

"But at least they knew each other, I guess. Before the modern age, people had arranged marriages for centuries. In other parts of the world, a lot of people still do. They work as well as romantic marriages, I suppose. I mean. What's the divorce rate now?"

Tami shook her head. "Too high," she said. "I couldn't marry without love, though."

"They love each other," Kathleen said. "As much as my father is _capable_ of loving anyone, he loves her. And my mom…well, there's a fine line between love and gratitude with her, I think. I know Eric has…issues…with our father. I have them too, but…not like that. I just don't have any anger towards him. He _annoys_ me often, but I'm not angry. And I appreciate what he's helped to make possible for me."

"Of course, you don't have to live with him anymore," Tami observed.

"True enough," Kathleen agreed. "And maybe when Eric gets a little distance, he'll be able to forgive our father some things. Me, I've had girlfriends who were abused by their fathers. Girlfriends who were abandoned by them. Hell, _I_ was abandoned by my _biological_ father. So I think I've always figured…it could be worse."

"I'm kind of surprised Mr. Taylor wasn't bothered by the fact that your mom was a single mother," Tami said. Yes, the wine had loosened her tongue.

"I think he was more bothered by the husband who took off. My father is all about doing the right thing. Almost to excess. And I think maybe he saw marrying my mother as doing the right thing. Not that he wasn't attracted to her, but he thought a child shouldn't be without two parents. Did Eric tell you about our dad's upbringing?"

Tami nodded.

"I think he wanted to be the complete opposite of his stepfather. He thinks a _real man_ should have a family and provide for a family. So here was his opportunity to do that." Kathleen pointed to Tami's empty glass. "More?"

"I better not," Tami said. "I like it too much."

Kathleen poured her a glass anyway. What could Tami do but drink it?

They talked late into the night. Kathleen told her stories of Eric as a boy, of how she had dressed him in a pink tutu when he was two, and their father had walked in on the scene and glowered.

"Eric's got a gruff exterior," Kathleen said, "but he has a golden heart. He was such a sweet boy when he was little. So affectionate. Sensitive, too. I mean, not in a cry baby way, but he hated to see me or my mom upset. I think our dad squelched some of that part of his personality, trying to toughen him up."

"I can see it, though," Tami said. "He's real sweet to me."

"He better be." Kathleen then told her how very shy Eric was at twelve and thirteen, and how she was afraid he'd never get a girlfriend. "He's become a lot more self-confident," Kathleen said. "His first girlfriend probably helped him with that. Is Eric your first serious boyfriend?"

Tami told her about Mo and the cheating.

"That must have really shook your confidence," she said sympathetically. "I hope it didn't make you inclined to be suspicious. Because that's never good for a relationship. You have to have trust. Trust is the most important thing in a relationship."

"My dad says communication is the most important."

"Your _dad_ talks to you about relationships?" Kathleen asked with surprise.

"Well…he's a pastor, and a counselor."

"My father's relationship advice consisted of three words, when I was fifteen: Don't get pregnant."

Tami took a sip of wine. "Did he have a list of rules for you like he did for Eric?"

"Oh, yeah, honor roll only. And he had to have an after school job of at least fourteen hours a week. And on and on." Tami shook her head. Kathleen laughed. "He's really bent out of shape about the fact that I'm supporting Ian right now. He thinks a man should always be working. But I told him – we're taking turns."

Tami wondered if she would be comfortable being the sole breadwinner in a relationship, and she realized she probably wouldn't She felt a little ashamed of her traditionalism. But then she prided herself on her egalitarianism on another front - she was going to work too. Tami wouldn't be staying at home like her own mother had. She would take off a maximum of eight weeks after each child. There's was no way she'd spend her days cleaning house and going to book clubs and PTA meetings and doing Eric's laundry. "I want it to be 50/50, straight down the line, for me," Tami told her. "Whenever I get married. We'll each do half of the house work, and we'll both work full-time."

Tami didn't understand why Kathleen was suddenly laughing so hard. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Tami," Kathleen said, recovering herself and stifling her last chuckle. "Nothing is _ever_ 50/50. And sooner or later, your careers are probably going to move in different directions, and one or the other of you is going to have to take a backseat, at least for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Well say you get your dream job in Seattle, and he gets his dream job in San Antonio. How's that going to work? One of you is giving up the dream job and taking a consolation prize. I think the best you can do is take turns. Unless you do like my mom did and just follow your husband everywhere, and it's always his turn."

A _fffft!_ of disdain escaped Tami's lips. "I'm not moving all over the place for my husband's job like that," Tami said. "That's for sure."

"Well, it wasn't _exactly_ like that," Kathleen told her. "I'm probably not giving a fair representation of how that worked for my mom and dad. When he had a new opportunity, it wasn't like he didn't run it by her first. And she's worked in the bar business on and off herself over the years. They probably made the decisions together."

Mr. Taylor didn't strike her as someone who consulted his wife for her opinion, but as her father had pointed out, he was selling a successful bar to move to Dallas for her. "How do you feel about your parents moving to Dallas?"

"It'll be good to have my mom nearby, and my father…we're going to butt heads, for sure, but then we get to go home to our separate places. And if we're all still in Dallas when Ian and I have kids, it'll be good to have grandparents in the area. It'll help. I wish I'd had grandparents growing up."

Tami looked into her wine glass. The yellow-white sea swirled, and she wondered how strong her father's heart was, if he would live to carry his grandchildren on his shoulders.


	43. A Private Paradise

Eric's pick-up crunched over sticks and pebbles and bobbed in and out of potholes in the dirt.

"Where are you taking me?" Tami asked. "Should I be leaving a trail of breadcrumbs?"

He drove into the woods now, the truck easing narrowly between two trees, and then eventually emerging into a small clearing. He stopped driving, threw the truck into park, and turned it off. "You're going to love this spot," he vowed.

It was Sunday afternoon, and school would re-start tomorrow. They'd both gotten back from their trips last night, and he'd called and promised her a picnic after church.

She stepped out of the truck. The clearing had thick, wild, dark green grass, and was surrounded by a near perfect circle of trees. The sun twinkled down on them. It was unusually warm for early April, promising an even hotter-than-usual summer to come, but Tami had on a cool, flowered sundress and enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face as she squinted up at the fluffy clouds.

Eric took her hand. He tugged her toward the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. They made their way along a path through the brush, and Tami was glad she'd worn her cowgirl boots instead of sandals. They emerged on the gravely shore of an inlet from the man-made lake, but they couldn't actually see the rest of the lake from here. It was a private paradise. "How did you find this?"

"Hiking," he said. "That water there is about four feet deep."

He took her back to the clearing, and they laid out a blanket. He'd brought a hamper picnic basket, and he pulled out sandwiches and apples and a bottle of Moscato. "I talked to Kimberley last night. She said you liked this wine."

He poured them each a glass. He'd brought real glasses but paper plates.

"I hope you didn't steal this wine from your father's bar," Tami said.

"Well, he doesn't pay me when I taxi, so I figure I ought to get a few perks."

"Did you seriously take it? He probably knows where every bottle is."

"He _knows_ I took it. He said I could. I'm 18 now." Eric raised his glass. "So what are we toasting? What did you decide?"

"UT-Dallas."

"To your future at UT-Dallas, then." They clinked glasses.

She sipped. She was really liking this wine thing. "But after my freshman year, I'll try to transfer to UT-Austin, so we can be closer. I mean, if you still _want_ me to be closer."

"You mean if _you_ still want it," he said.

She smiled at him, because she thought he was joking, but then she caught the shimmer of worry in his hazel eyes. She leaned in and kissed him.

They drank, ate, talked, and laughed, and an hour passed like a minute.

Tami reached for the bottle and poured, but only two drops dribbled into her empty glass. "Good Lord," she said. "We drank an entire bottle. What is that? Two and a half glasses _each_?"

"Umm…I only had one and a half glasses. I _am_ driving after all."

She giggled. Then her eyes brightened and widened. "Let's go swimming!" She put her glass down. Tami stood up and made sure she was still steady enough on her feet to move. Her head felt buzzed, but she wasn't wobbly.

Eric, looking at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, said, "I didn't bring a swim suit."

"Who needs one? Come on!" She left him sitting there and ran, a little clumsily, into the woods and down the short trail he'd shown her earlier. She shed her boots and clothes in a pile on the shore of the inlet, dashed into the water, and squealed at the sudden cold. After splashing into the deepest part, where the water just barely covered her breasts, she turned around.

Eric was standing on the shore now, shaking his head and smiling. "You're crazy, babe!" He quickly took his shoes and T-shirt off and dropped his jeans in a pile on the ground before walking toward the water.

"No!" she shouted. "You've got to drop those drawers, too!"

"Are you _completely_ naked in there?" He hadn't seen her run in, apparently. Eric looked at her pile of clothes as if to confirm her underwear was among them. He turned back and grinned. "Damn, Tami!"

She jerked her head toward herself, smiling.

"Well, turn around," he said. "Don't look."

"So your sister was right. You _are_ shy." Tami twirled around. When she heard him splashing his way to her, she turned back. He stood a foot from her, face to face.

"You're naked," she told him and giggled. Then she splashed him. He splashed her back, and then she squealed and half ran, half swam away. She tried to stand again and stumbled a little on the inlet floor. He caught and steadied her, and then his lips came down on hers.

They made out there in the water, tongues dancing, her hands roaming his chest and back and then down to his firm ass, which she squeezed. This made him emit a low chuckle, and then his lips were all over – on her earlobes, her mouth, her neck, her shoulders. He kissed and suckled and nipped. With one hand he fondled her breasts, and with the other he rubbed her lower back before straying down to squeeze a cheek.

Eric nibbled her neck at a tender spot that sent a shiver through every centimeter of her naked body. She could feel his erection lightly grazing her stomach. He need only lift her slightly, or bend himself, and then…

Tami's body was willing, but her mind was less certain. She felt like she should probably say something to slow this train down, but her head was starting to spin just a little, and she couldn't remember what it was she wanted to stay.

" _Eric_ ," she managed finally. One word, and nothing more, but her tone must have been enough.

The heat of his lips vanished from her neck. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"I don't know."

The cool water lapped at her breast as his hand slid away. Eric stepped back and said, "Well I know what _I_ want. I want you so damn bad, Tami, that I can barely think straight. So we better stop and go back to shore and get dressed and wait until you _do_ know what you want."

She nodded.

They waded inland, Tami covering her bare breasts with crossed arms as the water receded. When the water was only up to her belly button, she refused to go another inch. "I'm embarrassed." Embarrassed she was naked, embarrassed she was buzzed, embarrassed she'd been so incredibly horny a moment ago, embarrassed she'd been acting like a fool.

"Just stand and wait here, then," he said. "I'll go get you a towel. I think I have one in my truck."

She watched him wade to shore, thought hazily how fine his ass looked, and then thought she shouldn't be watching him. He pulled on his boxers over his dripping body with his back still to her. The boxers clung to his damp, sinewy thighs as he struggled into the jeans she'd gotten him for Valentine's Day. Then he slipped his bare feet into his tennis shoes before disappearing in the woods.

She was getting cold by the time he returned, shivering on the upper half of her body. He had a towel with him. He put it on top of her clothes. Water dripped from between his pectoral muscles and weaved a path down to his navel. "I'll turn around. Tell me when you're dressed."

He stood with his back to her, his hands on his hips, and his head bent while she dried off and dressed.

"I'm done," she said, and she could feel the heat reddening her face.

He turned, took the now damp towel from her, and wiped off his chest and back before putting his white t-shirt on. "You a'ight?" he asked. "You feeling dizzy?"

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"You cold?"

"Yes."

"We'll go lie in the sun. Warm up." He put a hand around her waist and walked her back to the clearing, where she lay with her back on the blanket and looked up at the clouds for a second before putting a hand over her eyes.

He lay down beside her. She could feel his strong shoulder against hers. Her head felt clearer now. Though it was still spinning a little, she could at least think. Maybe it wasn't really the wine that had been clouding her thoughts a moment ago. Maybe it was his naked nearness.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. She wondered what he was thinking, if he wished he'd seized his opportunity and they'd had sex out there. "I'm not on the pill," she said. "I went off it the day Mo and I broke up." She figured he ought to know, given how close they might have just come to slipping incautiously into unprotected sex.

"A'ight," he said.

"I'm not ready." She almost cried when she said it, though she wasn't sure why. Such a confusing sea of emotions swirled in her – love for Eric, regret over Boone and Mo, embarrassment over her inebriation.

"A'ight," he said. "I'm sorry I let you drink so much. I was having such a good time talking to you. I wasn't paying attention."

"You're not my keeper, Eric. I'm responsible for that."

"I just…I brought the wine because I thought it would be romantic. I don't want you to think I was trying to liquor you up to get you naked. Because I wasn't."

"I got myself naked," she said.

He chuckled. "Yeah, and _fast_ , too."

"I'm such an idiot."

"Nah."

The sun tickled her skin, drying the remaining droplets and warming her flesh. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For not taking advantage of me."

"You're thanking me for not being an asshole?"

She laughed. "I don't know. Am I?" She slid her hand off her eyes and rolled to face him. He turned his head slightly. She kissed him softly. "Sorry you're dating a lush," she said.

Eric rolled onto his side and draped an arm around her waist. "You're fun," he told her. "I need some fun in my life. But promise me something."

"What?"

He raised his eyes to hers. "When you go to UT-Dallas, you won't ever get drunk at a party around other guys, when I'm not there with you."

"Eric, I'm not going to throw myself at some random guy. Yeah, alcohol loosens my inhibitions, but it's not as if it makes me do something part of me doesn't _already_ want to do."

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of you not being in a position to defend yourself if…" He swallowed. "Just promise me, please."

"I'll be smart," she said. "I'll be careful. I'll promise you that. But I'm not promising you I'll _never_ get drunk at a party in college."

He frowned.

"Would _you_ promise _me_ never to get drunk at a college party?"

"It's not the same risk for me, and you know it." In his tone, for a moment, he sounded almost like his father.

"Like I said," she replied firmly. "I'll be smart. That's all I'm promising you."

He stared at her for a moment, as if he was considering insisting on her compliance, but then he said, "A'ight. I love you, Tami."

It occurred to her that however many times she had _thought_ to herself that she loved him, she had never actually _said_ those three little words. Maybe she'd been afraid to, after what had happened with Mo, as though not saying the words could somehow protect her from heart break if he ever chose to walk away. But she knew it couldn't.

Even more importantly, she knew he deserved to hear it. "I love you, too, Eric."


	44. Perfect

Tami held the dark green dress up to Kimberley. "Jack will flip," she told her.

Kimberley pushed it back against Tami. "No, it'll look better on you. You're the perfect height. Eric will flip."

They both giggled and returned the dress to the rack. Neither bought it in the end. Tami chose a black dress, and Kimberley got a red one.

[*]

"Red makes boys think of sex," Kimberley said as she unlocked the trunk of her Volkswagen and they threw their bags inside.

"Everything makes boys think of sex," Tami insisted.

"Not Jack." Kimberley unlocked the driver's side and then leaned over to unlock Tami's door.

Tami slid inside. "Jack is _thinking_ about it, I guarantee you, whether or not he's doing it."

Kimberley started the engine. "I'm hoping that dress will finally make him shed his scruples on prom night."

Tami buckled in. "You and I have the opposite problem."

"Still holding Eric at bay?"

"He's very respectful of my decision not to have sex. It's just…"

Kimberley reversed the car and pulled out of her parking space. "He's a great offensive player?"

"He's very talented," Tami said with a smile.

"He's inching his way toward the end zone?"

Tami laughed. "Maybe."

"How far have y'all gone?" Kimberley asked as she switched to drive and headed away from the mall.

"Not very. We did skinny dip on Sunday, though."

"Seriously?" Kimberley glanced at her with a gleeful look in her eyes. "Where?"

"A secret spot I'm not telling _anyone_ about."

"But you didn't do it?"

Tami shook her head.

"So…How big was it?"

"Kim!" Tami shouted.

Kimberley laughed.

"We didn't actually see each other naked," Tami said. "I mean, I saw his backside when he got out, but that's it." Tami dug in her purse for her sunglasses, but had trouble finding them. "He has a very nice ass. Better than it looks in those football pants even."

"So…what have you done so far?" Kimberley asked. "Hand jobs?"

"Wow, you're nosy."

Kimberly sighed. "I have to live vicariously."

Tami chuckled. "Not yet. Just, you know…stuff above the waist mostly. That's it so far. I told you I'm not in a rush. I have to be sure."

"What's there to be sure of?" Kimberley asked. "He's crazy in love with you."

"I don't know. I just...that's the last part of me I'm holding back. I already told him I love him. That's all I've got left. I feel like it keeps me safe."

"Well, it's prom, Tami. And he's been so sweet to you. You're going to give him a little something more, aren't you?"

"Probably. But not _all_ of it."

"You've got to at least give him the best blow job of his life."

Tami's moth dropped open. "I can't believe you just said that!"

Kimberley appeared confused by Tami's reaction, but then realization dawned on her face. "God, I'm so sorry, Tami." Frantically, she looked back and forth from Tami to the road. "I wasn't even _thinking_ about Anita. I swear to God. I'm so sorry. I was just, I wasn't - "

Tami shook her head. She laughed. "You know what, it's funny. I am finally over that enough to find that just a little bit funny." She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. "Anita will always have me beat on quantity," Tami said. "But I think I could show her a thing or two about quality."

"Don't show _her_ ," Kimberley said. "Show Eric."

[*]

On prom night Eric danced beautifully - so beautifully that halfway through their second slow dance, Tami accused him of secretly taking lessons.

"When I was in Dallas for winter break," he admitted, "I might have asked Kathleen to show me a thing or two. And maybe I've been practicing since then, just in case I ever got the privilege to dance with you."

Tami pressed her cheek to his. "You've got some good lines, you know."

Later, they talked and joked with Jack and Kimberley while sitting and drinking punch at one of the tables. It was an evening of laughter and love and friendship, of warm affection and of beginning to say goodbye to their high school days. It was the perfect night, as far as Tami was concerned, at least until Anita and Sue Beth got into a cat fight over Mo, and Sue Beth stained Anita's white dress with an entire glass full of punch.

No, Tami thought, even _that_ was perfect.

[*]

After the dance, on the way home, Eric threw his pick-up into four wheel drive and rolled over rocks and sticks to their secret clearing in the woods.

"What are we doing?" Tami asked.

"I thought you might like to park and look at the stars for a while."

"Uh-huh," she said with a smile.

He smiled back. "Really, they're gorgeous here. Not as gorgeous as you, but…"

Eric suggested unrolling a sleeping bag in the bed of his pick-up so they could lie on their backs and stargaze. Predictably, they weren't looking at the stars for long before he rolled on his side and kissed her cheek. She, too, rolled toward him and pressed her lips to his.

They lay side by side for some time, kissing and caressing one another. Gradually, she unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie, but she left it draped around his neck, dangling between his pectoral muscles, which she explored with her hands as her tongue explored his mouth.

Meanwhile, he slowly untied the bow at the top of her black dress. He folded down the fabric to further reveal her cleavage and then dipped his hand into her bra. His touch toyed her nipples into hardness. She moaned against his lips as the heat mounted within her.

Eventually, he slid his hand out of the top of her dress and ran it down over the black fabric to the hem, which he pushed up to her thighs. He caressed her legs for a while before easing a finger cautiously underneath the edge of her silky, black panties. She gasped against his lips when she felt the heat of his finger touching her so intimately. He froze in place. He was waiting, she knew, to see if she would tell him to stop, but instead she murmured _please_.

He slipped another finger beneath the lacy edge, captured her mouth again with his, and kissed her hungrily while he touched her. She moved into his touch while she whimpered against his lips, and it wasn't long before she was shuddering against him.

He slid his fingers out of her panties and rested a hand on her knee. With his other hand, he stroked her hair as she recovered her breath. When her breathing had leveled, he asked, "Would you please do that for me, too, Tami? Touch me?"

His gentle request, in its contrast, reminded her of Mo's uncouth, "Can I at least get a hand job? My balls are turning blue here." Shelley was wrong to laugh at her all those months ago. There _could_ be such a thing as a romantic hand job. But that's not what Tami had in mind.

She sat up and looked down at him. In the light from the moon and stars, she could see his erection straining against the zipper of his black suit pants. "Hand me your suit coat," she told him.

He looked puzzled, but he sat up and handed it to her. "Is that a no?" he asked as she took the coat from him.

"It's a different yes." Tami slid off the tail gate of the truck. She spread the suit coat on the ground.

"Why are you throwing that on the ground?" he said. "That's my church suit."

"I don't want to get dirty when I kneel down," she told him. "Now come here."

Eric grinned. He slid off the tailgate, put it up, and leaned back against it. "I think maybe you _do_ want to get dirty," he said as Tami slid to her knees before him. His eyes were twinkling with excitement, as bright, almost, as the stars. He closed them fast when Tami reached for his belt buckle.

[*]

"I probably shouldn't tell my father how often you used the Lord's name in vain back there, huh?" Tami teased as Eric drove the truck back up to the road. Her head was on his shoulder.

"Please don't talk about your father right now."

She kissed his shoulder and giggled. "Did you like that?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding and smiling. "Yeah, I kind of liked that. A little bit."

"A little bit, huh?" she asked.

"I don't know. You're going to have to do it again sometime soon. So I can be _sure_."

When they were parked along the curb right outside the parsonage, she said, "I had a really good time tonight."

"So did I." He leaned in and kissed her. "And not just because of _that_. I love you, Tami. I love seeing you happy. I loved seeing you smile out there on that dance floor."

"I love you, too," she told him. She kissed him again. The porch light flicked on, and Eric drew back.

 **[*]**

Eric sat beside her in the front pew at church on Sunday, his arm around her shoulder. She leaned comfortably against him. From the pulpit, the Reverend was preaching on Corinthians. "Your body is a temple," he was saying, and Eric whispered in Tami's ear, "I want to worship at your temple."

Tami lowered her head, bit down on her bottom lip, and fought, with every fiber of her being, the urge to laugh in church.


	45. Imperfect

The bell rang for break, and Tami made her way outside to the courtyard, where she often hung out during those precious fifteen minutes of midday freedom. Kimberley was already at the picnic table, and she smiled as Tami sat down opposite her.

"So….did you show Eric a thing or two prom night?"

"Maybe," Tami confessed.

"Because he sure has been smiling _a lot_ today."

"We didn't go _all_ the way, but I'm starting to think maybe my timeline is a little arbitrary," Tami admitted to her. "This absolutely no sex in high school thing…I can't quite remember why I came up with that."

Kimberley chuckled.

"How did it go with you and Jack?"

The chuckle transitioned to a sigh. "He was a perfect gentleman, as usual."

"So…"

"We made out a little. He felt me up a bit. But that was it. He is not kidding about this no sex before marriage thing."

"But you had a good time?"

"I had a _great_ time. And I'm going to _keep_ having a great time with him for the rest of the year, and I'll always remember Jack fondly as my high school sweetheart."

"Remember him? You say that like you think you're going to break up before college."

"We _are_ going to break up before college, Tami. What's the point? I'm not becoming Catholic. We're not going to have a sexless, long-distance relationship for four years, hundreds of miles apart at two different colleges. It's just not happening. So I'm going to break it off after graduation."

"You don't love him?" Tami asked.

Kimberley looked around to ensure they were out of anyone's earshot. "Yeah, I _do_ kind of love him," she confessed. "And I know I'm going to miss him. A _lot,_ at first, probably. But I'm just being realistic here."

Tami toyed with the strap of her backpack. A sudden wave of sick fear rolled in her stomach. "Do you think long distance relationships ever really last?"

"You and Eric are going to last, honey," Kimberley assured her. "You'll only be apart for a year, anyway, and less than a four hour drive."

"You mean _if_ I can transfer to UT-Austin to be near him at TMU."

"Oh, we all know you will, Tami. And then you two will get married after you graduate. He'll coach at some high school, and you'll be a high school guidance counselor – "

"- A high school guidance counselor?" Tami asked. "Why not a therapist at a private practice?"

"Because you both want your summers off so you have lots of time for sex."

Tami laughed. "You've been looking in your crystal ball?"

"No, I have a magic mirror that tells the future. You'll buy a house with his and hers closets, and you'll have 2.5 kids, and a white picket fence."

"2.5 kids?"

"One of them is going to be a midget, unfortunately, but you'll love him anyway."

Tami shook her head and smiled.

"Eric's going to make the boy dress up as a leprechaun and play the school mascot when he's head coach at Notre Dame. That's where he'll run into Jack again, who will be an ex-Jesuit priest and a professor of Physics."

"An _ex_ -Jesuit?" Tami asked.

"Yeah, because by then he'll have left the priesthood to marry an ex-prostitute."

" _Who's_ marrying a prostitute?" Eric asked.

Tami looked over Kimberley's shoulder to see Jack and Eric approaching. Jack slid onto the bench next to Kimberley and kissed her cheek. Eric took a spot next to Tami.

"We were just talking about a book we both read," Kimberley said. "It wouldn't interest you boys. It was a Harlequin romance."

"I knew it!" Eric said, looking at Tami with triumph. "I knew that's what you were shoving in your purse that day at the coffee shop. Classic, my ass."

 **[*]**

On the last Saturday in April, Eric took Tami on another picnic in the clearing. He did _not_ bring wine this time.

After their lunch, they packed up the basket and lay down side by side on the blanket, where they made out for a tantalizingly long time, lips nibbling necks and ears, hands roaming over clothes, bodies pressed and moving together.

Eric eventually slid his hands beneath her shirt and unhooked her bra to caress her bare breasts. His touch was like feathers and then fire, and the tension mounted little by little until her body was burning with desire for him. When he began lightly pinching her nipples, she groaned, not just from the pleasure of his touch, but because the tingling between her legs had grown torturous.

She couldn't do this anymore, this mere fooling around.

She _wanted_ him.

In a decisive instant, she pulled away. "Do you have condoms?"

Confusion flickered first in his expressive eyes, then surprise, then joyful expectation. "Yeah!"

He ripped his wallet from the back pocket of his shorts and it flung open. In his excitement, some of the contents spilled out. He shoved the money and receipts back inside and pulled out a foil packet. When he kissed her, she began hastily unbuttoning his shorts.

Tami would like to have said their very first time was perfect, that it was a romantic storybook encounter, but it wasn't perfect. It was hungry _._ Disorderly. Quick.

Both were already on the brink from their intense make-out session. They didn't even get their shorts and underwear down to their ankles before she was begging him to come inside. Once he was, Eric came in two swift strokes, groaning against her shoulder.

 _Sorry_ followed his shudder. "I'm so sorry. I can touch you. Or –"

There was a rustling in the woods, and, startled and embarrassed, they hurriedly pulled up their underwear and shorts. Eric had just shoved the used condom beneath the blanket when a couple broke through the woods, the man carrying a hiking stick.

"Mornin'," Eric drawled, and waved, even while trying to catch his breath.

"It's the afternoon, really," the man said.

[*]

Eric switched off the truck alongside the curb, five car lengths from the parsonage. They hadn't said much on anything on the drive back. "Listen," he said, "That doesn't usually happen to me. I swear."

"We made out a _really_ long time first," she reassured him. "And you haven't had sex in…what? Nine months?"

He looked away from her, out the window. A car drove by, well above the speed limit, with a woosh.

"The first time with anyone is never that good," she insisted, as though she'd had dozens of other first times before him, instead of just two. "It'll be better the next time."

He looked back at her. "You still _want_ there to be a next time?"

"Of course."

He put his head back against the head rest, closed his eyes, and sighed with relief.

She put a hand on his leg. "You're more upset about this than I am, Eric. If those hikers hadn't interrupted us, I know you'd have taken care of me another way."

"I didn't want to take care of you _another_ way. I wanted…." He opened his eyes and looked at her hand on his leg. "Ladies first."

She smiled. "Look, the whole thing was rushed. _I_ rushed it. I've been fantasizing about it for so long that – "

" _You_ have?"

A little embarrassed by her confession, and by the memory of some of those fantasies, she slid her hand away. "Sure. So when I decided I wanted it…" She shrugged. "I probably shouldn't have sprung it on you like that, when you didn't know we were headed there, and you were already _so_ close."

He put a hand on the steering wheel and ran his fingertips nervously over the plastic. "I wanted to make it special for you. Our first time. Something you'd remember forever."

"Oh, I'll remember it forever," she laughed. "Being interrupted like that? You don't forget that."

He smiled, a little wearily. "You're pretty great," he said. "You…" He turned to her. "You're really pretty great."

She gave him a smile of love and compassion.

"I swear I'm going to make it up to you. All you have to do is name the day." He leaned over and kissed her. They were still kissing when there was a knock on Tami's window and they jerked apart.

The Reverend smiled and waved and made a cranking motion with his hand. Tami rolled down her window. "Daddy," she said. "Really?"

"I was just walking home from the church. I had a counseling session. Does Eric want to stay for lunch?"

"We already had a picnic," Tami told him.

"Then how about dessert? Or have you two already had dessert?"

Tami bit down on her laugh and caught Eric's eye. He looked straight down, his face paling a shade.

"No," Tami said. "No, we haven't."

The Reverend smiled. "Eric, want to come in for ice cream?"

"Uh…" Eric looked mortified by the thought of sharing ice cream with her father right after having sex with her. "Thank you, Reverend, for the invitation. But I promised my mom I'd mow the lawn this afternoon. Can I take a rain check?"

"You know you're welcome in our house anytime," Tami's father replied.

 **[*]**

The second time they had sex, three days later in Eric's bedroom, while his mother was volunteering at the church's clothing closet and his father was at Taylor's, was more like Tami's fantasy.

They explored each other slowly. There were whispered words of love, sighs, and a slow dance of mounting pleasure on his soft gray sheets. Tami came with a whimper - the first time. When he brought her to orgasm the second time, she cried out loudly, and only then did Eric moan his way to a release that left him shuddering beside her.

They held each other close, until the trembling stopped, and their breath leveled, and he said, "That felt really good. Was it good for you?"

"I've never felt like this before," Tami answered. "I didn't know I _could_ feel like this."


	46. It

**_A/N:_** A short one today. Comments much appreciated!

 **[*]**

After dropping the attendance for their respective home rooms with the secretary, Tami and Kimberley stopped, as usual, to "rest their feet" at one of the benches in the main hallway.

"So how was it?" Kimberley asked her.

"How was what?"

"You know. _It_."

Tami gasped. "How do you know we did _it_?" Tami hadn't talked about it with Kimberly yet. "Did Eric tell Jack? He's not telling people is, he?"

"Honey, Jack is not _people_. Jack is his best friend."

"Still."

"Still what?" Kimberley asked. "You talk to _me_ about it. Well, you talked to me about the other stuff anyway. Frankly, I feel kind of slighted that Jack knew y'all were doing it before _I_ did."

"I was going to tell you," Tami swore, but she hadn't really wanted to report on the first encounter. "We just did it for the second time yesterday."

"And…?"

Tami blushed a little and smiled. "It was really great the second time. We did it in his bedroom. His parents were out all evening, and we weren't rushed. It was…I don't know. Different. I don't know how to explain it, but it wasn't just sex."

"I'm jealous. I mean, not of _Eric_. Of _y'all_. together. God, I'm so horny, Tami. A girl is not supposed to be the one in this position."

"Are you really going to break up with Jack over that? You know, if a guy was breaking up with a girl for not putting out, we'd both call him a jerk."

"Not over _that_ , Tami. It's just, we're going to be ten hours apart in college. He'll find a good Catholic girl. It's inevitable. And I'll get laid a few times before I eventually settle into a relationship with a pre-med student."

"When are you going to tell Jack?"

"I'm waiting until after graduation. I don't want to ruin his graduation. But not long after. I don't want him wasting his summer staying in Rankin as long as he can just to be with me, when he could go ahead to Oklahoma, get settled."

"How do you think he'll react?"

"I don't know," Kimberley said. "He'll probably be upset. Feel rejected. But I think he might also be relieved. He's sweet to me. He likes me. He enjoys being with me, while we're here." She waved her hand about the hallway. "But I'm not that girl, you know. The one he's going to settle down with. We're moving on. All of us. Beyond this small town."

Tami felt suddenly sad. She'd spent half her youth wanting to escape this town, and now that she envisioned it all fading into the past…it was almost like a part of her was dying. It had to die, she knew, for the future Tami to be born, but it hurt. " _You'll_ stay in touch, won't you? With me?"

"Of course," Kimberley vowed. "You and I, we'll still be meeting up for girls' weekends when we're fifty."

"I'll bring the wine," Tami promised.

[*]

The chairs click-clacked as Tami helped Eric put them up on the tables.

"I got something for you." Eric disappeared behind the counter. Tami followed. He handed her a heart shaped cookie, on which he'd rather sloppily written in icing, _Tami + Eric_. She smiled. "You're sweet as sugar. I'm going to save it."

"I'll get you a bag."

With the bag tucked in her backpack that also contained her study materials for their upcoming finals, she walked with Eric back to the parsonage. "You want to stay for dinner?" Tami asked. "Or are you still afraid to look my dad in the eye?"

"I'll stay. Not long though. I need to spend some time with my mom. She's freaking out a little about me leaving the nest."

"Well, you're the last one." Tami took his hand as they walked. "I'm the first. But I'm also my dad's favorite, so…he's freaking out a little bit too. Quietly."

"That's the way he does everything. Quietly."

He glanced into the window of a jewelry shop as they passed.

"Did you tell Jack we did it?"

Eric looked from the shop to his feet on the sidewalk. "Uh…"

"Because that was _private_ , Eric."

His hand had grown tense in hers. "Well, he asked why I looked so happy Monday morning after English. So I told him." He finally looked at her, less nervous, more defensive now. "It's not like I was bragging about it. Not to _Jack_. And it's not like you haven't told Kimberley."

"I _hadn't_. She found out form _Jack_."

"Oh."

"It's okay," she muttered. "I'm not even sure why I'm upset about it. You didn't do anything wrong. I guess I just…I feel that was something really special between _us_."

He stopped walking and turned her face-to-face. "It was something really special, Tami. And I won't talk about it anymore if you don't want me to."

"Thank you," she said softly. They kissed there in the middle of the sidewalk, while a warm spring breeze ruffled her hair.

They walked on, her arm laced through his this time. "How serious do you think Jack is about Kimberley?" she asked.

"What do you mean? They're going steady."

"I know, but, does he envision them together in college?"

"I guess. Why wouldn't he? If you've got a great girl in high school, why wouldn't you want her in college?" He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"We're not going to be as far away from each other as they are, though."

"Only 212 miles," he said. "I can drive it in less than three hours."

"If you're going way over the limit!"

"Oh, I will be if I'm coming to see you." His tongue snaked out between his teeth.

Tami liked that cute smile of his, but she wasn't smiling. "I just...I think they're going to break up, and it makes me a little sad."

"Well," he whispered, "w _e're_ not going to break up." He slid an arm around her waist and she leaned her head against his shoulder, rested on his strength.


	47. An Implication

**_A/N:_** To the guest reviewer, I think it would be fun to read a story where they meet in college, but I'm probably out of college stories myself. I did write one where they meet when Eric is a college freshman (or sophomore) and an assistant volunteer high school coach at the high school where Tami is a senior. That one was in flashbacks within another story.

 **[*]**

During dinner, Eric looked everywhere but in the Reverend's eyes.

"You joining the Secret Service, Eric?" Tami's father asked as he reached for the basket of rolls. "Looks like you're constantly scanning for threats. I assure you no one is after anyone at this table, though."

"Sorry," Eric muttered and looked Tami's father straight in the eyes, for about two seconds, before turning them to Tami's mother. "You make an amazing lasagna, Mrs. Hayes."

"Why thank you, Eric."

After the meal, Mrs. Hayes made homemade whip cream and brought out fresh berries for toppings, and they all sat around the kitchen table eating sundaes.

Shelley scarfed hers down because there was a honk outside the parsonage - her ride to a dress rehearsal for the May musical.

"You know she's going to be great in that play," the Reverend said when she was gone. "I wish she'd stick with drama next year."

"I don't know about that drama crowd, though," Mrs. Hayes said. "I've heard some of them are into drugs."

"She needs to be more consistent," the Reverend said. "Find her niche and bloom."

"She's fifteen, Edward. She needs to explore her interests."

Tami hadn't expected her mother to take that side of the argument.

"I just fear she may never _stop_ exploring them," the Reverend said. "That she'll never settle into anything in her life. She's such a free spirit that one. Which is fine…up to a point."

"Well then put your foot down, Edward! Be authoritative and tell her she has to stick with it next year. Either that or stop complaining about it. One or the other. But you're always ruminating instead of acting." She left her spoon in the bowl and stood. "I need to go practice my piano." Tami's mother was no longer the regular pianist at church these days, but she played special music selections on occasion. "Eric, it was nice having you." Tami's mother pushed in her chair. "And Edward, you can get the dishes."

"What was _that_ about?" Tami asked when her mother exited the kitchen.

"Your mother's a little peeved with me right now."

"I can see that," Tami said, "what for?"

"I might have saddled her with altar guild duty without discussing it with her first. Apparently she doesn't like to arrange flowers as much as I imagined she did. And now she wants me to tell the altar guild ladies she's not going to be doing it, but I don't want to tell them, because those ladies scare me a little bit, so I told _her_ to tell them."

Eric, clearly a bit more relaxed now by the Reverend's levity, laughed. "You're afraid of some little old church ladies?"

"You have no idea, Eric, what they're capable of. They can make a minister's life miserable. They're best avoided."

Eric shook his head and smiled slightly.

"You'll see when you're a coach. You'll have a similar relationship with your boosters. In so far as you can avoid dealing with them, you will. You'll leave them to be managed by Tami's extroverted talents."

An awkward silence followed. Eric studied the last bite of his ice cream intensely. Before Tami could say anything to deflect the moment, her father re-routed the current of the conversation: "How's your father's bar hunt going?"

"He's found a place he likes in Deep Ellum." He set his spoon in his bowl. "It's a neighborhood in Dallas, known for its music scene, but he's waiting for the seller to drop his price before he commits."

"Is he going to have live music? He doesn't strike me as a music lover."

"If he thinks it will help business, I'm sure he'll do it," Eric answered. "After a lot of research."

Eric offered to clear the dishes to the sink, and then he made his polite farewell. "I owe my mom some time. We're playing Gin Rummy tonight."

When he was gone, Tami washed the dishes Eric had brought to the sink, and her father dried them. She said, "You seem pretty sure Eric and I are going to end up married."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that."

"But you _did_ imply it. You seemed sure."

"You're considerably less sure, I gather," he said. "You think you might find a better match at UT-Dallas. Someone more intellectual, perhaps? Less traditional? More modern?"

"I didn't say that."

"If you do, Tami…it happens. You're only 18. I like Eric. He's a good kid. But I certainly won't think any less of you if you decide to move on when you go away to college."

"I don't want to move on. I'm just afraid."

"Of what, exactly?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"That he'll cheat like Mo did?"

"Not really," she said. "He's too honorable for that. But I guess I'm afraid we'll just…drift apart."

"That happens. But if you don't _want_ it to happen, there are things you can do to stay connected. And he's welcome to stay with us here when you're home on breaks, if you like, provided he _behaves_ himself." He might as well have said, "No extramarital sex under my roof."

Tami flushed and busied herself turning off the water and wiping down the counter. She got herself a glass of sweet tea and sat down at the kitchen table. Her father joined her. "What made you say that just now?" she said. "About me finding someone more _intellectual?_ Less _traditional_? Do you think Eric and I aren't compatible?"

"I didn't say that. What do _you_ think?"

"I think Eric's pretty old fashioned, but I don't dislike that. I can see us butting heads about gender roles, probably, at some point, but I _like_ that he's…you know. Masculine. Strong. Respectful."

"Steady? Dependable?"

"Yeah."

"Those are good qualities to look for in a man. But you have to make sure you don't get bored with his predictability. You're a curious girl, an energetic and spontaneous one, and sometimes the predictable may seem less than thrilling to you. You have to keep acknowledging its value. You have to understand there are trade-offs – a flipside to every virtue, as to every vice."

"And you don't think Eric's smart?" she asked.

"I think he's _smart_. I just think he's not intellectual."

"He gets all As and Bs in school," she said. "His GPA is higher than mine."

"Yes, but yours will be higher than his in college. And his is high because he's a rule-follower. He shows up and does what he's supposed to do. He has a capable mind, but his G.P.A. isn't high because he's _interested_ in intellectual things."

"But the stuff that he is interested in -"

"- Football."

Tami smiled, "Yeah, football. He _really_ gets into it, Daddy. Into the details. He _thinks_ about it. _Deeply_."

The Reverend nodded. "I've seen that."

"And it's not like I need to sit around discussing theology and literature and philosophy as much as you do. It's interesting when you and I do it, don't get me wrong, but I don't _need_ to do it that often. I guess that's hard for you, that Mom's not much interested in all that."

"Your mother has many virtues, but that's not one of our commonalities, no."

"You probably weren't thinking philosophically when you fell for her."

He chuckled. "No. I wasn't. Though why _she_ fell for _me_ is even more of a mystery. I didn't even have dashing good looks to recommend myself. But we've made it work, Tami, despite our differences. I appreciate her virtues, which balance my vices, and I've found other outlets for those sorts of intellectual discussions."

"I know. But I'm leaving, Daddy."

He smirked. "Are you suggesting Shelley's not going to pick up your slack when you're gone?"

Tami laughed. "I'm sure she'll be happy to have really deep conversations about _The Love Boat_ with you." She tilted her head and studied him. "Seriously, Daddy, what are you going to do when I'm gone?"

"Honestly? I'm thinking of leaving the pastorate once Shelley graduates high school and teaching at a seminary or Christian college. There are one or two that might employ me with just my Master's degree, given my publications and life experience. That ought to put me in the path of plenty of conversation partners."

"What would you teach?"

"I don't know. Theology. Church History. Poetry. Latin. Whatever they'll hire me to teach."

"How does Mom feel about all that?"

"The idea didn't precisely thrill her at first. We'd lose the parsonage, for one, and she raised her girls here."

Tami didn't like the idea of the parsonage vanishing from her life either. She always imagined visiting her parents here, in her childhood home.

"But, believe it or not, as good as she is at the job, your mother's getting tired of playing the pastor's wife. She'll have played this role for a quarter of a century by the time Shelley graduates from high school. She might want to try pursuing some career interests of her own."

"Really?" Tami asked. "Mom?" What could her mom even _do_? "Like…what career interest?" Tami's mom had no college credits and not a whole lot of marketable skills.

"Listen." The Reverend fell silent and held up a finger. The sounds of the piano drifted into the kitchen. "You hear that? She's very good, you know. All these years she's played on and off for the church, she's never gotten paid, but people _will_ pay for that."

"Is _that_ why you were asking about Eric's dad having music in his bar?"

"Good Lord, no. You think I'm going to let my wife play piano in a _bar_? You should see the way those men hit on Eric's mother that one time I saw her working there. I'll probably get a teaching job at a school near Dallas. Your mother will hire herself out to churches that need substitutes, for special events, and she'll probably start giving private piano lessons. Lots more kids do that sort of thing in cities than in Rankin."

"So both our families will be in Dallas by the time Eric and I graduate college? That'll be convenient."

"Convenient, huh?" Her father smiled. That was when Tami realized that she really _was_ imagining a future married to Eric.

She wondered if he was imagining it too, or if that awkward silence after her father's words meant the idea frightened him.


	48. Saturday

Eric leaned against Tami's locker before first period and kissed her. "What do you want to do this Saturday?" he asked.

She smiled impishly. "Besides fool around in your bedroom while your parents are out of town, you mean?"

The Taylors were going to Dallas to see Kathleen and look at a bar Mr. Taylor was considering buying.

Eric grinned. "I was hoping that would be on the agenda. But what do you want to do after?"

Tami shut her locker. "Grab a quick fast food dinner before going to the play, I guess. My sister's play is at 7:30."

"Oh." He walked beside her and held out his arm.

"I know you don't want to see a musical, but it's my _sister_." She slipped his arm through his. "But I _have_ to go either tonight or Saturday. I'd rather go with _you_. It'll make it more bearable. Pretty please?"

"A'ight," he muttered. "Sure. But...Is she gonna sing a lot?"

"She's _not_ a bad singer," Tami insisted.

Eric slid his arm away from her when they were near her classroom door. "Enjoy math," he said with a smirk.

"It's so thrilling. How couldn't I?" She tilted her head. "Listen, sorry about my dad saying that thing about...you know...it being all awkward and all at dinner last night."

Eric shrugged. "No worries."

A few kids flirted into class in front of them.

She wanted him to say he wasn't completely freaked out by the idea of some future commitment to her, so his response was disappointing. "I just thought maybe you were embarrassed," she ventured. "Because you looked down at your ice cream so fast."

"I just didn't know what I was supposed to say to that."

The bell rang.

How could she blame, him, really? She'd been embarrassed too. Tami wished her father hadn't said it. Now she couldn't stop thinking about what she wanted to happen in the coming years, and whether or not Eric thought about it happening too.

"Ms. Hayes," came Mr. Boyles voice suddenly from the classroom doorway. He was standing right in the center of the orange door frame. "Do you intend to join us?"

A few giggles arose from within the classroom.

Tami flashed Mr. Boyles her sweetest, most southern smile. "I was just coming in right now."

"Taylor," Mr. Boyles said. "You're already tardy."

"Yes, sir," Eric muttered, and smiled at Tami before hurrying off to class.

[*]

Tami didn't bring up the subject again. She didn't think it would be good form to keep broaching the issue. It was probably best to let her father's implication slide. What could she say, really? "Do you ever think about marrying me?" They were still in high school. That kind of question could terrify your average guy, and not even _she_ was that blunt.

So she let it slide. During lunch, she simply enjoyed her time with Jack and Eric over the cafeteria table, watching the boys rib each other like long-time brothers. Sometimes she took a side and got in a jab of her own, and once she laughed so hard that milk almost came out of her nose.

"I'm going to miss this cafeteria," Jack said wistfully.

Tami snorted, thinking how strange it was to regret leaving behind these worn tables in this smelly, boisterous cafeteria of Rankin High. And then she realized what he meant, what he was _really_ going to miss: these friendships, these rituals, this laughter, this community, and all these simple, shared moments.

"You a'ight?" Eric asked softly as he slid closer to her on the bench to wrap his arm comfortingly around her waist. "You look like you're about to cry."

[*]

On the one hand, the week went by too fast, because Tami was watching her high school days slip away.

On the other hand, it went by too slowly, because she was anxious to be alone with Eric on Saturday.

At night, alone in bed, she thought about his touch, and wondered if he was lying in his bed, thinking of such things too.

[*]

Eric traced a heart shape between Tami's bare breasts with the tip of his finger. He then trailed that same finger down to her naval. He followed the trail with soft kisses, until his lips were at her belly button, where he paused. He looked up at her. "Spread your legs." His voice was gentle but sure. "I want to see you, Tami. I want to taste you."

Tami had given Mo plenty of oral sex, but he'd never suggested repaying the favor. Surely he would have if Tami had asked, but she'd been hesitant to do so. That would have required a certain vulnerability on her part, a more complete exposing of herself. Besides, too much of their sex had taken place in the cramped, back seat of his car. Mo had never explored her in quite the thorough way that Eric did, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she had never _let_ him explore her.

Eric, however, she trusted more completely. For Eric, her legs fell open.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

Tami squirmed slightly beneath the teasing sensations of his lips on her inner thighs. She gripped the sheets – black, silky ones this week - in her hands, and balled them into fists as he drew tantalizingly closer to her core. When his tongue touched down on the most tender spot, she gasped, and cried, "Please!" and then, a smaller, shier whisper, "Please, Eric. Yes, please." Tami closed her eyes and held tightly to the sheets, feeling like she might just slide off the edge of the world.

Later, when she was still shivering from her orgasm , her eyes still closed beneath the waves of pleasure that were sweeping over hear, she heard him tear open the condom package. He'd drawn himself up beside her now, and his lips were against her ear. "Did you like that?"

She could hear, but not see, what he was doing as he rolled the condom on. She could feel him, too, his weight shifting atop her. "Uh huh," she managed, between breaths. "I liked it."

"Good. Because I like you, Tami." He parted her legs again. "And I really like _this_." With a low groan, he pushed effortlessly inside.

[*]

Eric was still shivering beside her as Tami looked up at a thin crack in the white plaster of his bedroom ceiling. She marveled at the unfamiliar silence of his house, and wondered, if they ever shared a house together, would it sound more like the parsonage – where her mother's piano drifted through the rooms, and the fire crackled and popped next to her reading father, and Shelley's laughter and songs burst out at random moments – or would it sound more like this, nothing but the sound of breathing?

Eric turned and kissed her bare shoulder and cuddled in close. His hand was warm on her hip. A strangely contrasting set of emotions mingled within her: pleasure and fear, satisfaction and searching, love and longing.

He yawned and then pulled up the comforter over them. "You thinking of getting on the pill again?" he asked.

She shook of the confused jumble of emotions and turned into his embrace. "I probably should. I mean, I will. I guess you probably like it better without condoms."

"It'll probably be better for you too."

"Okay," she said.

"And we're going to be doing it a lot this summer."

"Are we?"

"I mean, I hope. If you want. I hope you want." He winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

She chuckled and kissed him softly. "Of course we are," she whispered. "I love you, Eric."

They kissed awhile longer, and then he settled his head on the pillow, eyes closed.

"You don't get to go to sleep," she warned him. "We have the play to go to."

He tried to stop his face from contorting at the thought, but she saw.

[*]

Eric suffered through Shelley's musical chivalrously enough. Tami sat between Eric and her father. Eric held her hand, but seemed a little tense doing so. She wondered if he was always going to be this tense every time he encountered her father the same day they'd had sex.

When the lights came on after the final act, and all of the seemingly obligatory clapping and bowing was over, the Reverend said to Tami's mother, "Shelley's quite good, isn't she? She has her mother's voice."

"If only she had her father's discipline," Mrs. Hayes said, "she might be able to do this for a living one day."

They brought Shelley flowers backstage, and Eric told her, "That was a lot better than I thought it was going to be."

"Gee, thanks, Eric." Shelley flicked her light, blonde hair over her shoulder and flashed a bright, fake smile at Tami. "You really picked a winner there, Tami. He really knows how to charm a girl."

They all went for ice cream together later, and the Reverend asked, "So what did y'all do this afternoon?"

"Eric's parents are out of town," Shelley said, "what do you _think_ they did?"

Tami hissed "Shelley!" through her teeth, Eric's eyes fell into his cup, and the Reverend cleared his throat.

Every now and then, Tami still wanted to hug her little sister, but more often these days, she wanted to strangle her. Maybe it was good for both of them Tami would soon be leaving home.

"Shelley," their father warned, "perhaps you meant that as a joke, but it wasn't funny."

"There's no reason to be inappropriate!" their mother scolded. "We were having such a delightful evening, too, child. That mouth of yours!" Mrs. Hayes shot Shelley a scalding, scolding look, but then she turned and equally worried one on Tami.

"We went for a hike by the lake," Tami reassured her mother. She hated that Shelley had put her in the position of feeling she needed to lie to her parents, but there were some things that could not be said, not even to her father. The Reverend might possibly know that she and Eric were having sex – he seemed to know things Tami often assumed he didn't – but he'd never _said_ anything about it. If he knew, he didn't want her to know that he knew, and she certainly didn't want him to know that she knew that he might know. Shelley had thrown a monkey wrench into their silent agreement to silence.

"We saw some really pretty blue birds," Eric added. "I think they might have been grosbeak. You think so, Tami?"

"Uh…maybe," she replied, a little surprised by his easy slip into the lie. He must be more accustomed to lying to his own parents than she was to hers. She'd tried to avoid that after her rebellious year, but with a father as demanding as Mr. Taylor, Eric probably still found himself weaving tangled webs from time to time. How much freer their lives would be, when they lived in their own house, she thought, and then realized she had thought house instead of houses. It was almost as if she couldn't think of the future, anymore, without seeing him there.

"So, are you trying out for the musical again next year, Shelley?" the Reverend asked, and Tami felt gratitude for his deflection.

"No, I _told_ you I'm going to be busy with cheerleading. Or maybe the pep squad instead. I want to twirl a flag, I think." Shelley paused with her spoon halfway out of her cup, and stared dreamily into the distance. "I bet I'd be great at twirling flags."


	49. Authority

Tami was just about to switch off her reading light when there was a knock on the door. Her father entered after she called, "Come in!" and pulled her chair from the desk and turned it toward her bed. He sat precisely where he had sat that night after she'd broken his heart, her sophomore year, that night she'd promised to mend her ways.

"Are you and Eric…" he swallowed. "Are you having sex?"

His blunt question surprised and flustered her. He'd been more subtle when he feared Mo might start pressuring her for sex, and she thought he was going to stay silent on this issue. Perhaps he hadn't known until Shelley's quip. Or perhaps he had known, but now he could no longer justify to himself remaining silent on the issue. As close as she was to her father, his thought processes were still a mystery to her.

"Daddy, I'm 18. I'm legally an adult. And that's private."

"You're my daughter. You're still in high school for the time being. You're living under my roof. And that's _family_."

She felt the old, familiar, defensive flare that had so often surfaced in her less mature days. "That doesn't give you authority over me."

"Actually, Tami, yes, it does. It does give me authority over you. How often I choose to exercise that authority, and how I choose to exercise it, and what good that exercise of authority does either of us - well, those are separate matters." He put a hand on his knee and sighed. "Your mother thinks I exercise my authority too little. Your sister thinks I exercise it too much. And me, I'm just desperately trying to be Goldilocks in a house of three bears."

Tami laughed. "We're not bears."

"Well you're aliens then, to me, you girls. Everything I know about the female species could fit in..." He wiggled his pinky. "The tip of this finger." He cleared his throat. "But I do know this. I love you, and I want for you the best things this fallen world of ours has to give you. I don't want you making any mistakes."

"I'm not doing anything with Eric I'm going to regret, Daddy, I promise you that. And that's the honest truth. And that's all I can promise you."

"Well…I hope you're right, Tami. Eric's a good kid. He's the kind of young man who _wants_ to do the right thing. That gives me some peace, at least." He crossed his leg, his ankle resting on his knee, and toyed with the black sock around his ankle. "I don't approve of premarital sex," he said. "I'm sure you must know that by now."

"Yes, Daddy," she said, her stomach sinking a little. "I do know that."

"So…having made that clear…" He studied his sock, as though it was essential that he pull a thread free from it. "Are you being safe?"

"Yes."

He wound the thread around his finger. "You're using condoms?"

Tami was sure her face must look like a blooming rose by now. "I don't want to talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about this either. Now please answer the question."

"We were, but I'm going on the birth control pill."

He broke the string off his sock. "Don't you need parental permission for that?"

"No. I'm 18." She didn't tell him she'd first done it at 17, before starting to have sex with Mo, at a clinic the next town over. Maybe she wasn't really any less talented at lying to her parents than Eric was.

"And you're sure that's sufficient? You've thought about STDs?"

She didn't tell him she'd gotten herself tested for them after Mo cheated, also at the clinic in the next town over. "Yes. Eric's only been in one other relationship, and I trust he's not cheating." Her face felt as hot as a Texas summer. Why did he have to mortify her like this?

He looked at the poster of the Judds on her wall. He blinked at it, several times, and Tami was reminded that her father was a minister, and that he had no doubt hoped his children would believe and honor all of his own values. Perhaps he hadn't known she'd gone all the way with Boone or Mo, even though he seemed to suspect. Maybe he thought Eric had taken her virginity.

"You're disappointed in me," she said, the hurt not masked from her voice.

He shook his head, but he was biting down on his teeth, as if he was biting back tears. "No. I'm just a middle-aged man, Tami, wondering what happened to my own youth, how my babies could have grown up so fast, where this world is taking us at such dizzying speeds, and where that's going to leave me." He coughed, and then with two fingers he pinched away the few tears that had escaped his eyes. Then he sniffed and stood. "Good night, Tami."

When his hand was on the door knob, Tami said, "I love you, Daddy."

He didn't turn around when he replied, "I love you too, princess."

"You're going to make an excellent professor, you know," Tami assured him. "What a blessing you will be to so many young people making their way out into this new world."

She was relieved to see her words made him smile. He even chuckled a little. "This brave, new world," he said, and opened the door.

As he left, she thought he would make a good grandfather also, and prayed that, despite his heart condition, he'd live to see his grandchildren. Then she realized she was also imagining Eric as a father, wondering if he would ever be able to talk to his own children the way her father spoke to her, thinking he would be involved and dependable, but perhaps a little gruff at times. He might be strict and a little demanding as a father, but also as affectionate as he was with her. He would likely mean well and always try to be better than his own father. She thought she might make a good counter balance to his vices as a parent, and that he might make a good counterbalance to hers, that, between the two of them, they might have all their bases covered. And then she realized what she was thinking and thought Eric would be alarmed if he knew how deeply her mind had plumbed the idea.

Tami switched off her light and settled into bed.


	50. Us

When Eric sat down, Tami looked up from the book that had engrossed her. The chairs (except theirs) were up, the freshly mopped floor sparkled, and it was quiet except for a sound of humming from the refrigerator behind the counter.

"Is that a diet book?" he asked. "You don't need to diet, babe. You're gorgeous just the way you are."

The title was _Thinner_ , but her hand was masking the author, Stephen King, so she slid it away. "This is certainly _not_ a diet I want to go on."

"I was kidding. I know what it's about. My dad was reading it."

"What?" she asked. "Your dad, who reads reports for fun?"

"My dad doesn't read _anything_ for fun. I think he wanted to know why you like Stephen King."

"Oh, God, he's not going to judge me based on my taste in Stephen King novels, is he?" She peered over the book at him. "What did he say?"

"You don't want to know that."

"I _do_ want to know that," she insisted.

"He's not your problem to deal with."

But he _might_ be, one day, if they ended up married after college. He'd be her _father-in-law_. Didn't Eric realize that? Or did Eric never _think_ about their potential future? Didn't he want this relationship to last through college as much as she did?

"Tell me, Eric."

"He said you must have been lucky to live a sheltered life if this sort of thing entertains you, because real life can be horrifying enough."

She closed the book and put it on the table. "Well I _have_ been lucky to lead a sheltered life. I hope my kids get to lead a sheltered life someday." Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought he looked uncomfortable after she'd said it. She hadn't meant to imply that she thought they might have kids together one day, but even if she had, what was so disturbing about that? Did he really never think about it?

When Tami was in sixth grade, like many girls her age, during boring moments in class, she would write out the names of her potential future children, followed by the last name of whatever boy she happened to have a crush on at the moment. She didn't do that now, of course, but a name _did_ pop into her mind from time to time, and she did try out a _Taylor_ after it.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

The walk, hand-in-hand, through the thick and warm May evening, was quiet. Eric had on khaki shorts and short sleeve polo, while Tami wore a light spring dress. Their footsteps – hers in sandals and his in loafers - made only light sounds on the pavement. The cars wooshed softly by on Main Street, though occasionally the roar of a motorcycle or and old engine penetrated the quietude.

Tami wondered what Eric was thinking. His father had asked if he could _envision_ them married that night she came to dinner. Eric hadn't said no. Lately, Tami had speculated about a future married to Eric more often than she cared to admit, even to herself. She didn't understand why she did. She'd hardly ever thought about such a future with Mo, and she'd loved Mo too. This was a deeper love, certainly, but that couldn't explain why her mind kept straying to something so final and concrete. Maybe it was the _respect_ she had for Eric, and not merely the love, that sent her mind there.

"Where do you see yourself five years from now?" she asked.

"Is this a job interview? Because I thought I already got the job." He smiled at her, raised her hand in his to her lips, and kissed it.

"What job?" she asked, smiling at his contagious smile.

He lowered her hand again. "The job of being your boyfriend."

"Oh, is that a difficult job?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he smirked. "You can be a lot of work."

She laughed and pushed into his shoulder with hers, causing him to veer from their straight path for a moment. "I'm just curious where you see yourself," she said when they were back on track again.

"Well, I'll have my B.A. by then, and, if I'm lucky, a Division II Championship under my belt as a college quarterback. I'll probably be teaching full-time at a high school in the Dallas Fort-Worth area, you know, where all my family will be, maybe P.E. or Health or something,"

"Or Home Ec?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure, I could teach Home Ec," he said, and she giggled. "And I'll be one several assistant coaches of the school's football team, making peanuts for a stipend. How about you?"

Tami tried not to be deeply bothered by the fact that he nowhere mentioned her in that picture. The _how about you_ suggested to her separate lives, and she felt a sudden disconnectedness, as if she were floating in space without an anchor – not to home, not to any future object.

"Well?" Eric asked, while her mind and heart were still reeling. "How about you? Where do you see us?"

His question spun her whirling mind once more, until it tilted, and then settled, and grasped his words. "Us?" she asked.

"I...uh..." he stuttered. He looked embarrassed and a little worried. "Well...Don't you ever think about it?" he asked quietly, and suddenly his awkwardness around these conversations took on another light. He'd been thinking about it and been afraid she _hadn't_ been.

"Yeah," she confessed. "I do sometimes think about it."

He smiled weakly, a smile of relief more than joy. "So...where do you see us? In Dallas or some other city?"

She let go of his hand, laced her arm through his, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't see any specific city," she said, the smile growing on her face. "I just see us happy. And Kimberley got me thinking, maybe I won't go into private practice. Maybe I'll be a high school guidance counselor. God knows I could have used a better one my sophomore year."

They walked and talked a while longer, and she said, "You sure lied easily about that blue bird thing."

"I thought you might want back up. Seemed you didn't want your parents to think we were...you know. I didn't want them to think it either."

"Yeah, it's just..." She shrugged. "You were pretty convincing. I don't know if I'd know if you were lying to me."

"I've never lied to you, Tami. And you lied to them first. I was just backing you up."

"I know."

He stopped walking and twirled her to face him. There was no one else on the sidewalk. "You'd know if I lied to you. You'd figure it out soon enough. You're perceptive like that. And I know how pissed off you'd be if I lied to you, and I wouldn't take that risk."

She smiled lightly.

"What do I have to lie to you about anyway? You're not my father."

"Have you lied to your father a lot?"

He took her hand and they started walking again. "I'm not proud of it, but sometimes it just felt easier than admitting I hadn't met his expectations. I forged a report card once, until I could bring my grades up. My freshman year, if I went to hang out with a girl that didn't meet his criteria, I told him I was with a guy friend of mine, who covered for me. He used to have me do these ridiculously long morning runs, and sometimes I'd stop halfway through and just lie on the grass and look at the clouds, but tell him I'd been running the whole time. That sort of thing."

"I guess everyone lies to their parents. I _try_ not to. I probably lie more to my mother than my father."

"Because she makes it harder for you to tell the truth?"

"Yeah, maybe that's it." She smiled. "So I guess we shouldn't it make it hard for each other to tell the truth, huh?"

"Sounds good to me." He squeezed her hand. "I feel bad about lying to your dad, you know. He told me once that the little lies I tell my father are a cowardly way of avoiding confrontation, and that I need to meet more of those disagreements head on. That's what I've been trying to do since. But that situation the other night...I mean...that situation needed deflecting. You seemed to think so too."

"Yeah, I did think so."

"What the hell is wrong with your sister?"

Tami sighed. "She has absolutely no filter between her brain and her mouth. She's always been like that. It was even worse when she was younger. Blurting things out, interrupting people, flitting from one activity to the next, no impulse control. Once she got in trouble in 2nd grade because she stood up while the teacher was talking and started running laps around the desks. My Dad thinks she has Hyperkinetic Reaction of Childhood. Well, it's called ADHD now."

"What?"

"Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder."

Eric shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"ADHD has been in the _DSM_ for about five years now. "

"Sounds like an excuse for being a pain in the butt to me."

"She _is_ a pain in the butt. But I also know it's really hard for her to control her impulses. It doesn't come easily to her. I just try to keep that in mind and be compassionate. But what she said yesterday - I wanted to throttle her. And I don't think that had less to do with her ADHD and more to do with the fact that she's jealous of me for having such an awesome boyfriend."

Eric chuckled.

"I'm serious. My parents won't let her really date until next year. And she also used to think you were hot. But then I went and snatched you up."

"She didn't ever really think she had a chance with me, did she? I mean, she's a kid." Three years was a long time in high school. "I didn't even know she existed before I was interested in you."

"Shelley thinks she has a chance with everyone." They came to a stop in front of the parsonage. "I worry about her, when I'm gone. I could see her getting into a nest of trouble. And she's my baby sister, you know?"

He nodded. "Well, she's got a good dad, right?"

"You really like my father, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said. "I do. I'd love to have a father like that."

Tami kissed him gently and then lay her head on his chest while she hugged him. She wondered if, when he thought of possibly marrying her one day, he was thinking not just of marrying her, but of making her father his own, of being adopted into the family.

'"You two love birds fancy some dinner?" came the Reverend's voice on the street behind them, and Tami pulled away from Eric. The Reverend shifted the briefcase he'd been carrying, in which he kept his counseling files, from one hand to the other. "Your mother called and told me she's making corned beef."

"God, I love her corned beef," Eric said. "Let me check with my mom if it's okay for me to stay.'


	51. Motherly Advice

After dinner that night, when Eric had gone home, Shelley had gone to "study with a friend," and the Reverend had retreated to his study, Tami washed the dishes as her mother cleared the table. She was running a brush around a plate when Mrs. Hayes said, "Can you believe Shelley's suggestion at ice cream the other night?"

"That was very rude of her," Tami agreed, the tension cinching every muscle in her body. She didn't know how much her parents talked about her. She knew they didn't see eye to eye on parenting styles and rules, and her father had always had more heart-to-heart talks with her than her mother. In fact, her mother didn't _do_ heart-to-heart talks at all. She issued dictates, ultimatums, and admonishments. Parenting differences was one of the things that had brought Tami's parents to marriage counseling in the first place, and perhaps they had learned to communicate better since then. Her father probably _had_ told her mother she was having sex with Eric. Tami was quite possibly busted. She better be careful what she said.

"She was implying that because Eric's parents were out of town, you went to his house and had sex."

"She _was_ implying that," Tami agreed. She knew her mother wasn't going to be direct and _ask_ if she was having sex. It was shocking enough for her father to have done so, but her mother was never too personal with her. She maintained her emotional distance, Tami thought, to maintain her authority.

So far, Tami wasn't lying.

"But of course you know that premarital sex is a _sin_ ," her mother said.

Tami made no reply. She slid the dish in the drying rack they kept on the counter. The parsonage didn't have hook-ups for a dishwasher, and her father wasn't paying for them, not when the house wasn't really his, and not when he had a wife and daughters to do the dishes.

"You know," Mrs. Hayes continued, "that your body is a temple, and you should never give it away cheaply to some young man you aren't even married to."

Tami made a non-committal murmuring sound.

"You know that, don't you, Tami?"

"What do you think of Eric, Mom?"

"You know I like Eric. I like him better than that Mo fellow. He has a servant's heart, Eric does, but strength too. I saw that in the hospital. I can't imagine Mo being that kind of rock at that moment. But as much as I like Eric, all teenage boys are the same when it comes to what they're after from teenage girls."

"No, they're not all the same," Tami insisted. "Eric and I have talked about the future. About where we'd like to be, one day, together."

"So you think this is the boy you're going to end up marrying?" her mother asked.

"I think there's a _possibility_ ," Tami said, glad to have moved off the topic of sex.

"Make sure you finish college first."

This demand surprised Tami. "You didn't."

"I didn't even finish high school. I was an eighteen-year-old drop-out, trying to help my father raise my little brothers and sisters, when I met your father." She looked a little dreamily out the kitchen window. She was clearly looking at a picture in her own mind, because there was nothing attractive in the narrow alley that separated the parsonage from the insurance office next door. "He was twenty-three. So confident, Tami. So on fire for God."

 _On fire for God_ was not how Tami thought of her father. His was a steady but quiet faith, not a loud, churning fire. Perhaps he had been different in his younger years, as a recent college graduate and new seminary student.

"He made me feel like I could have a future beyond the farm," her Mom said. "A future in the town." She chuckled to herself. "And now, when Shelley's out of this house, I'm going to have a future in the _city_." She leaned back against the counter. "But you, Tami, you can have future anywhere you like, and you don't have to wait twenty-five years to seize it."

"I know that, Mom."

"Don't have kids until you've had a career for a little while first. Wait until you're at least twenty-nine. Because once those little babies are in your arms, you're not going to want to go back right away. If you have them too early, you'll lose ground in your career, and you won't ever have gotten in the groove."

Tami raised an eyebrow. Another surprise. She thought her mother considered it God's command, and a woman's duty, to be fruitful and multiply.

"It may be the 1980s, Tami," her mother said, "and I may have lived to see women's liberation, but some things haven't changed, especially not for a traditional boy like Eric. A mother's role is more demanding than the father's. And you're going to end up with more of the household duties. That's just the way it is. And he's going to expect support in his career. And I don't guess being a coach's wife is going to be any easier than being a pastor's wife."

Tami put the last dish in the drying rack and turned off the water. "How so?"

"The pastor and the football coach are both central figures in a town, especially a small town, and being married to one will put you in a sort of spot light. You'll be expected to do things you might not be interested in doing, and to do them with a smile. You'll have to invite people in your house you'd just as soon not." Tami's mother sighed. "It's going to be a nice break when your father is a professor in a big city, when no one but his students and colleagues know who he is, and I don't have to stand by his side in a doorway every week."

"I thought you liked being a pastor's wife. You're so…religious."

"Your father does good work, Tami, and I'm glad to support him in it. He's one of the better men of the cloth out there. But sometimes I'd just like to be Linda Hayes. Linda Hayes, and not the pastor's wife. And I think if you end up married to Eric, and he does realize his dream of becoming the head coach of a high school, there are going to be days you wished you were something more than the coach's wife. So you better make sure you have that college degree, and you have some work under your belt, so any day you feel you need to, you _can_ be more."

"Well I intend to do all that, Mom," she said. "I don't know about waiting until I'm twenty-nine. Maybe twenty-six. I want energy for my kids, too, but I intend to do all that."

"Good."

"It's not like we're getting married tomorrow. We're just _talking_ about a _possible_ future us."

"Just talking," Tami's mother murmured. "Uh-huh. And how many eighteen year olds do you think are talking at all about their futures together, Tami? How often did you just talk to Mo about it?"

"Never," Tami admitted, and felt a sudden chill of excitement.

[*]

Kimberley skated out of the joint, whirled around, and set the tray of milkshakes on the stone table. Tami took her strawberry shake and handed the chocolate one to Eric. Jack plucked up his banana shake and said, "You're pretty hot in skates. And those uniform shorts."

"They're way too short," Kimberley grumbled, sitting down on the bench next to Jack. "But they do earn me better tips." She took a sip of his milkshake.

"Hey!" Jack said. "The manager's not going to like you stealing food from the customers."

"Aww…well, I'll give you a taste." Kimberley kissed him.

"Enough already!" Eric said. "We're in public."

"Your boyfriend never kisses you in public, huh?" Kimberley asked Tami.

"I don't know. Let me see." Tami kissed Eric, and he smiled and blushed beneath her kiss, but pretty soon he was responding. She pulled away. "I guess he does."

"Three more weeks," Kimberley said, "and we are done with high school. Done. Glorious freedom!"

"College is going to be a lot of work," Jack said. "Especially for those of us who are playing ball." He fist bumped Eric.

"That's like two full-time jobs right there," Eric agreed. "Of course, I don't have the pressure of trying to make it to the NFL. I can just have fun."

Kimberley laughed. "Jack's not going to make it to the NFL." Jack frowned, and she toyed with his hair. "I'm just being realistic. How many college players make it? What? Two percent?"

Tami didn't think anything of her comment. It seemed reasonable enough to her, but Eric was looking at her kind of funny. "Do you not realize how good Jack is?" Eric asked. "He didn't get a full scholarship to the #7 college football team in the entire country for nothing."

Kimberley glanced at Jack, appearing a little impressed, and then back at Eric. "But you don't expect to make it to the NFL, and you were the one who brought us to State."

Eric laughed. "I'm the quarterback. The quarterback always gets the limelight, but the quarterback can't win games without good receivers. Jack has been consistently the best player on the Tigers, since before I ever got here." Jack was looking down in his milkshake now, smiling a little. "He's a way better player than I am."

Kimberley laughed happily. "Well, then, who knows," she teased. "Maybe you'll have millions of dollars to support your ten kids and you can buy your own pew at church." She kissed Jack's cheek and didn't notice he was frowning. "I better get back to work." Kimberley skated away.

"I have to get going," Jack said, and seized his milkshake and left the table.

"What's he so upset about?" Tami asked Eric.

"She said _your_ kids. He knows, Tami. He knows she's going to dump him before the summer's over. And he's not happy about it. He _loves_ her."

Tami's lips turned down sympathetically. "Poor Jack. But, you know, it's probably for the best she does it before college, so he can be free to find someone else."

Eric slid and arm around her waist and scooted a little closer on the half-circle, stone bench. "You know I don't want to be free to find someone else, right?" he whispered.

She smiled. "I know. Don't worry. I'm working on your shackles." She winked, he chuckled, and they kissed.


	52. Graduation

**A/N:** A short one today, but I like to try to keep the updates daily. Comments welcome!

[*]

The last three weeks of high school were a whirlwind, with finals flowing, too soon, into graduation. Tami wasn't quite ready to say goodbye, not to her friends, not to her father, and most certainly not to Eric. Two hundred miles suddenly seemed a very long distance indeed.

Tami's mother must have taken 8,000 photographs, given the number of times that camera clicked throughout the ceremony. Jack was their valedictorian, and he gave quite a moving speech about the memories that had been forged in high school and the classmates who had transformed.

"God, Tami," Kimberley whispered to her from where she sat in the folding chair next to Tami's, her blue cap tilted slightly forward, "After that speech, I feel bad that I'm going to break up with him next week. Maybe I'll wait a little longer, until he leaves for summer training. He does look really hot in that cap and gown, doesn't he?"

Tami went out to dinner with her family afterward. Her father seemed proud but pensive and a little sad. He slid her an envelope with a graduation card and $2,500 in savings bonds to use for college. "Cash them in as you need them," he told her. She'd already applied for a work study job as a secretary in the Student Counseling Office and was going to try her best to graduate debt free.

Tami had a good time at the graduation party later, but she didn't protest when Eric suggested leaving early with Jack and Kimberley. The four of them stopped by the lake – not in the secret spot, but in a more obvious one – lit a fire on the shore, and walked down a fishing pier in its glow. They sat on the pier's edge, shoulder to shoulder, girl-boy-girl-boy, their bare feet dangling just above the cool water, but not quite touching it. Eric and Kimberley had a beer in hand, while Jack and Tami drank Diet Coke.

"Guess we're driving, huh?" Tami asked Jack.

He leaned forward and looked down the row, over Kimberley and Eric, and said, "It sucks being the responsible party, doesn't it?"

Tami nodded.

"Well," Eric replied with a smirk, "I think Tami figures if she gets me drunk enough, she might just get lucky tonight."

Kimberley snorted. She handed Jack her beer. "Here, then have the rest of mine."

"Heck, why not. It's graduation after all. Tami can drive us all home." Jack put down his coke and took her beer.

Kimberley turned to Tami with wide eyes. "Tonight's the night," she mouthed, and Tami shook her head.

"This is almost goodbye, huh, kids?" Jack asked.

"Who you calling kids?" Kimberley asked. "Just because you were forty when you were fourteen doesn't make us kids."

"You'll invite us all to your mansion when you're in the NFL though, right?" Eric asked him.

"Yeah, sure," Jack said. "I'm even going to have a Ms. Pac-man machine so Kimberley will want to come." He slid his arm around her waist and smiled at her a little sadly.

"Get your hand off my hip," Eric told him.

"Well scoot over and get your hip off my girlfriend!"

Eric did scoot over a little, pushing Tami to the very edge of the pier.

"Don't drown your girl while you're at it," Jack warned him.

Eric draped an arm around Tami's shoulders.

"Will you also have a sand volleyball court?" Kimberley asked. "Out by your pool?"

"Oh yeah. Eric and I can watch you two play." He grinned and Kimberley smiled.

"It would just be in the interest of the sport," Eric insisted.

"Yeah, it's a very interesting and complicated sport," Jack agreed. "I mean, sometimes the ball hits the ground – "

"- And sometimes it gets volleyed," Eric interrupted.

"And sometimes you even rotate."

Eric took a swig of his beer. "That pretty exciting right there. The rotating. It's a really – Whoa!" He slid off the pier. He'd been sitting awfully close to the edge, so it really only took a little push.

"What the - ?" Jack's question was interrupted by his own tumble from the pier, at the hands of Kimberley's shove.

Tami and Kimberley pulled their legs up before the boys could drag them in.

Eric shook his head, water spraying off his hair in the black lake, which was illuminated by a line of moonlight. Tami couldn't tell in the darkness, but she thought maybe he was giving her a dirty look.

"You know I don't have a change of clothes in my truck, right?" Jack asked.

"Guess you'll have to drive me home naked," Kimberley told him, and both girls giggled.


	53. No

The air conditioner creaked on again. A cool stream began to float from the overhead vent, penetrating the hot June air. Tami lay naked on her stomach in Eric's bed as his warm lips tickled her bare shoulder and his strong hand kneaded her bottom. Halfway through their afternoon foreplay, when they were down to their underwear, she'd asked for a massage, and she'd gotten one, after he'd stripped her of her bra and panties. At some point, Eric must have taken off his boxers also, because she could now feel his erection resting against her hip. Tami pushed her lower half against the bed, trying to ease the growing ache between her legs.

He began to pull her slightly on her knees. "You want to try it this way?" he asked, his voice raspy from wanting. His hands on her thighs, he spread her legs. "From behind?"

She rolled over onto her side, forcing him onto his in the process, until they were face to face. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've never done it that way."

"It's not rocket science."

"I don't know if I want to."

"A'ight." He kissed her. "What _do_ you want?"

She draped a leg around his hip. "Face to face. I want you…inside."

"Now?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"Like this?" he asked as he pushed slowly in.

"Oh God," she moaned.

"And this?" He eased halfway out and thrust back in.

"Oh God!"

Eric stroked her hair afterward, as she lay with her head on his chest, which was still rising and falling. She traced his rib cage lazily. It occurred to her that, despite having sex with Boone and Mo, she wasn't particularly experienced. She'd been with Boone only once, with no idea what she was doing. She'd waited a long time to have sex with Mo, and they'd broken up only a few months after their first time, whereas Eric had probably been having sex with Lisa for almost two years.

Tami's sexual experience with Mo, aside from lasting only a few months, had been limited. Was that part of why Mo had turned to Anita? Because Tami was boring? She didn't care what Mo thought of her anymore, but what if Eric thought so, too? "Am I not adventurous enough for you?" she asked quietly. "Did Lisa do...did she do more?"

Eric tensed slightly, for a moment, and then relaxed. He rested a hand on the small of her back. "I love you, Tami. And I love having sex with you. There's no hurry to try everything. This is all on _your_ timeline, babe."

"Yeah?" she asked, raising her head and shooting him a teasing smile. "I call the plays?"

"Uh-huh." He smiled. "As long as there's a spread formation in there somewhere at some point…I'm happy as a clam."

She smacked his chest lightly and laughed. "Well, we've got time to experiment gradually," she said. "We're going to be doing it a _lot_ this summer."

His eyes brightened. He was clearly excited that _she_ was the one who was saying it this time. "Yeah? A lot?"

"Definitely. You're leaving for summer training in seven weeks. Soon, we're only going to see each other on the weekends, and probably not even every weekend. We have to store up nuts for the winter. But we have to figure out how."

"Oh, I think we've figured out how," he said. "I know our first time wasn't the best, but we've definitely figured out _how_."

She laughed. "That's not what I mean. I mean, once or twice a week, when your parents are out… It's not enough. Don't you want it more often?"

He grinned. "Yeah! You want to go to the secret spot by the lake tomorrow?"

"No!" she cried. "It's not _secret_ anymore. I'm not getting interrupted by hikers again. And the mosquitoes are out now."

He looked disappointed.

"But my dad's cleaning up at the soup kitchen every Wednesday night until nine," she told him, "and my mom's at her ladies' bible study until 9:30. Shelley's out at that aerobic tumbling class camp whatever thing she's doing now. She's never home before 9:00 either. You could walk me home from the coffee shop on Wednesdays and _stay_ for a while."

"Uh…" Eric looked conflicted. "No."

"Why not?"

"Not under your father's roof. I can't do that, Tami."

"But you can do it under _your_ father's roof?"

"That's different."

"How so?" she asked.

"You're his _daughter_. That's _his_ house. It would be disrespectful."

Tami let out a groan of exasperation and rolled onto her back. "You have such a weird sense of honor."

"It's not weird. There's nothing weird about it," he insisted.

"Can I ask you something? Are you having sex with the pastor's daughter?"

"Uh…yeah," he admitted.

"Yeah! So what difference does it make _where_ we have it? Aren't you disrespecting him already?"

"Yeah, but that would be _really_ disrespecting him."

"Fine," she said, sitting up on the edge of the bed and starting to pull on her clothes.

"Come on, Tami. _You_ know he'd take it as an insult." Eric sat up too and yanked on his boxers.

She clasped her bra. "I just want to have sex more often this summer." She pulled on her shirt.

He smiled as he stood and pulled on his jeans. "There _is_ one way I could have sex with you in your father's house and not feel so guilty about it."

"Yeah, what's that?"

Shirtless, he went over to his desk drawer and yanked it open. He pulled out a box of Cracker Jacks.

"You need a snack?" she asked, her skirt still in her hands, her long shirt just covering her thighs. " _Now?_ I helped you work up an appetite, huh?"

"The box is empty," he said. "But the prize is still in here." He turned the open box upside down against his hand. A fake, plastic, diamond ring fell into his palm. He tossed the box into his wastebasket and walked over to her before falling down on one knee in front of her.

Tami almost laughed, but then she saw his eyes, the eyes she'd told him could never bluff in poker. He was sincere. So instead of laughing, her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she covered it with one hand.

"Tami," he said, holding out the plastic ring, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life than I am of you. Will you marry me?"

"Oh Eric," she said, shocked and delighted. "Oh, sugar…" She was moved almost to tears. "Oh, babe….no."


	54. It's Unofficial

Eric blinked a few times. His lips drew a firm line, that frown he made without ever turning the edges down. He drew himself up into a standing position. "No?" he asked.

"We can't get married just so we can have more sex."

"That's not why I asked! That was just a…you know...a segue. I know what I want, Tami. I want _you_. And I thought all this was headed in that direction. I thought we were talking about the future. About _us_. What have we been talking about, if not marriage?"

"It is _headed_ in that direction," Tami said. "It's just not _there_ yet."

He took in a breath and exhaled it while looking at his bare feet on the brown, shag carpet. "Let's finish getting dressed. My dad will be home anytime now."

Once Tami had her skirt back on, they went and sat in the rocking chairs on the back porch. Tami explained to him that she loved him and could see herself married to him one day, but she wanted to finish college first. "It's important to my mom that I do. It's important to _me_." She told him that she wanted to be supportive of his dreams, but she also wanted her own career. "And how can we be married and be at two different colleges 200 miles apart? I've been the pastor's daughter my whole life. I don't want to go straight to being somebody's wife. I want to be me, Tami Hayes, for a few years first."

He didn't say anything. He pushed off the porch with his bare feet, and his rocking chair bobbed back and forth.

"Don't be angry," she said.

"I'm not angry. I have no right to be angry. I'm just disappointed. And a little embarrassed."

"Don't be embarrassed. It's not like you did it in a restaurant, in front of people."

"Nah, but I put my heart on my damn sleeve and you just brushed it off like it was a stain."

"I did not," she said firmly. "And you can't _brush off_ a _stain_."

"Sorry my metaphors suck."

"It's a simile, actually."

He laughed. "I don't even know why I love you so much. You break my heart and then correct my vocabulary."

She smiled. "Because you don't want an easy girl. That would bore you."

"Well, there's never a dull moment with you. That's for sure."

"Eric, I'm sorry if it felt like I was rejecting you. That wasn't my intention. I love you. We're just too young to get married."

He sighed. "I know you're just being practical. And, honestly, my dad would rip me a new one if he knew I'd proposed to some girl before I had the means to provide for her."

"I don't expect you to provide for me."

"I'm sure you don't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't _want_ to be _able_ to."

He rested his hand on the arm of his chair. "I know we're young, Tami. I know that, but I just…I'm sure about you. And I want to know you're sure about me. Because I don't want to go away to college and then get some phone call one day, like I did with Lisa, just…goodbye. I found someone else. Out of the blue like that."

"Don't you feel your relationship with me is different than it was with her?"

"Sure. But I didn't see that coming."

"You don't think I'm a little bit scared too?" Tami asked. "I mean, Mo cheated on me. When I was right in the _same town_ as him."

"You think I might cheat?"

"No. But, honestly, I didn't think Mo would cheat either. I was blind. And I think I've grown up since then. I think I can see things more clearly now. But sometimes I still doubt my own perception."

"Well, don't doubt me." He looked at her tenderly. "I know what I've got in you, and I know I'd be an idiot to risk it."

He leaned over and kissed her. When he pulled away, she noticed how unruly his hair was, still askew from their lovemaking, and she felt a sudden wave of fondness wash over her. He looked at his fingers on the arm of the rocking chair as he spoke, in a quiet voice: "Could we maybe have…you know…an _unofficial_ engagement? I mean…like…a private understanding just between us?" He dared to look at her now. "And I'll ask officially when we're college seniors? With a real ring and everything?"

"Like an engagement to be engaged?"

"Yeah," he said. "That's a good simile."

She chuckled.

"Can we?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. We can have an engagement to be engaged."

She was warmed to see his nervous face morph into a grin. He was leaning in again for another kiss when the porch door opened. He drew back abruptly, hit his head on the back of the rocking chair, and Tami giggled.

"Show a little more coordination, Eric," his father said. "Tami, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Tami would not like to stay for dinner. She would like to avoid Mr. Taylor's company, but Eric had eaten dinner at her house multiple times now, and she'd dined with the Taylors only once. She thought she better be polite. "I'd love to. Let me just call my parents and let them know."

"Good. I've already started cooking. It should be ready in twenty minutes. Eric, come in and set the table." And then he was gone through the screen door.

"Wait," Tami said. " _He's_ already started cooking. Your _father_?"

"Yeah. My mom has a book club tonight. She won't be home until after nine." He stood. "I better get that table set."

Tami stood also. "Your father _cooks_?" The king of the table, who had waited for his wife to bring him everything the last time Tami visited? "Is it going to be edible?"

Eric laughed. "Sure. He's worked in the restaurant business since he was fifteen. You think he doesn't know his way around a kitchen?" Eric shook his head as he lead the way inside.


	55. Making Waves

Tami's father knew how to make three things. He could grill meat, which in Texas, of course, meant brisket. He could make pancakes, eggs, and bacon. And, like any self-respecting Texas man, he could prepare a decent chili. That was it. So when she bit into the shrimp and sausage gumbo Mr. Taylor had prepared, and the sensation of a half dozen tastes hit her tongue at once, she couldn't help but say, "Oh my God! This is so good! You should open a restaurant."

"I _have_ opened a restaurant," Mr. Taylor said.

"I mean a real restaurant." Tami realized her unintentional insult the moment the words were out of her mouth, but it was too late. Eric's eyes widened in her direction and Mr. Taylor's grew stern. "I just mean," Tami stuttered, "like, a non-bar place. A fancy place. Have you ever considered the upscale market?"

"No."

"Okay," she said quietly, simultaneously embarrassed by her faux pas and annoyed by his brusqueness. "I just imagine you'd be successful at it."

"A middle-class establishment is always filled during good times," Mr. Taylor said, "with both the lower and middle classes. When recession hits, the upscale establishments are the first to take the blow, and the middle-class establishment _becomes_ the upscale establishment." He didn't pause for her reply, but continued his exposition. "The middle class is the best place in life. Not just to target, but to live in. The middle-class man has none of the vices of the idle rich, but none of the struggles of the poor."

Tami knew it was probably best to nod at this point. A simple nod would be the easiest way to avoid making waves. But she didn't nod. She said, "If you believe that, then why was it so important to you that Eric try to make it to the NFL? If he made it to the NFL, wouldn't that put him among the _idle rich_?"

Eric suppressed a smile. Mr. Taylor blinked. He studied her quietly for a moment. Tami didn't allow his gaze to intimidate her. In that moment, she decided that if this man was going to be her father-in-law one day, she better make her stand sooner rather than later. She looked right into his eyes. "The life of a high school coach and teacher," she said, " _is_ a respectable middle-class life."

Mr. Taylor's mouth formed a stern line. She wondered if he ever smiled. She was trying to think of a time she'd seen him smile, and she couldn't. At last, he spoke. "You make a valid point," he said. "You make an error of assumption, however."

"Oh?" Tami asked. "And that is?"

"That Eric would necessarily lead the life of the rich man in the NFL. I've raised Eric to appreciate the value of always living below his means. If he were to make it to the NFL – and I still think he could, if he would just give up this TMU nonsense and accept my money and go to A&M – "

"- Dad, I know what I'm doing. I'm not – "

Mr. Taylor held up his hand to silence his son. "I know. You've made your decision. I'm not going to argue with you. You're your own man, and there's nothing I can do about it. That doesn't mean I've change my opinion."

Eric stabbed his spoon into his bowl and angrily fished out a bite.

"If he had made it to the NFL," Mr. Taylor told Tami, "he would, I should hope, live well beneath his means, as I taught him to do. The average career in the NFL lasts only six years. But live a middle-class lifestyle during those six years, bank the difference, and you can live a middle-class lifestyle for the next twenty years, no matter what you do. He could _volunteer_ to coach for the rest of his life, if he did that."

"It's not realistic to think I could go pro," Eric told him. "I'm not _that_ good."

"You're better than you think you are," Mr. Taylor told him. "When I was sixteen, I had a boss who told me I'd never be anything but a fry cook, and he was wrong. I could buy his restaurant now, if it hadn't failed years ago."

"That's different," Eric told him. "I'm doing the reasonable thing. This is what I _want_ , Dad. I want to concentrate on my future career as a coach. I don't want to put all my eggs into some NFL basket, order my whole life around achieving that pipe dream, only to get passed over on draft day, or to flame out at camp, or to get cut in the pre-season. TMU is the _right_ school for _me_."

"I'm aware of your opinion, Eric. Don't expect me to share it."

"I'm not asking you to _share_ it! But would it kill you to support me anyway?"

Mr. Taylor shot him a look that was more puzzled than angry. "How am I not supporting you? What have I done but work my whole life to provide for my family? Are you not sitting at my table, under my roof, eating the food I put on my table? Have I cast you out?"

Eric shook his head. He seized his bowl. "I'll clear the table," he said. "Is there dessert?"

"There's your mother's leftover apple pie."

Tami helped Eric clear the table. At the sink, she said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to start a flame war between you and your dad."

"It's okay," he said. "This is just life in the Taylor household." He smiled at her. "Won't be life in _our_ household though, I promise you."

"If we ever have children," Tami said, "I'm sure we'll never fight with them." They both laughed. They were young, but they weren't so young as to imagine that could be true.

When Eric was getting the pie, Tami thought how nonchalantly he'd treated her comment about children, without even spooking a little.

After they'd been eating their pie for a bit, Mr. Taylor said, "Oh, Eric, I forgot. You need to run over and help the widow next door change some high lightbulbs. She doesn't want to risk the ladder."

"Okay," he said, and took another bite of his pie.

"I mean now, son. She needs the light. I'll make Tami some decaff coffee, and you can rejoin us when you're done."

Eric glanced at Tami, who shot him a "please don't leave me alone with your father" look. He shot her an "I'm sorry, but I know you can handle yourself" look. What he said was, "I'll be back real quick."

Tami helped Mr. Taylor clear the pie plates and then wasn't sure what to do with herself as he made the coffee, so she looked around at the kitchen and spied the flowers in a vase on the small, circular table in the breakfast nook. "Those are pretty flowers. Did you get them for Mrs. Taylor?"

"Yes. I get her flowers every Tuesday. That's when they're cheapest at the grocery store. Fresh shipments come on Wednesday, so they discount the flowers on Tuesday. I can get them at an economical rate."

"And carnations, too. They're one of the most _economical_ flowers to begin with." She felt a little bad after she'd said it. Tami supposed it was nice of Mr. Taylor to buy his wife flowers every single week. Her own father certainly didn't do that. Then again, when the Reverend _did_ buy Tami's mother flowers, it was heartfelt, and he wasn't primarily concerned with economics.

"The carnation is Janet's favorite flower. Her second favorite flower is the tulip. Yellow is her favorite color. Her second favorite color is green. Ten is her favorite number."

Tami counted the flowers in the vase. Ten yellow carnations. She looked back at Mr. Taylor, who was watching the brown liquid in the coffee pot drip, drip, drip.

"A French press produces better coffee," he said. "But this is more efficient." He held up a finger. Drip, drip, "This is the last one," drip. He pulled out the pot and poured their cups. "Cream and sugar?" he asked.

"I take it black," she said.

"Do you? I'm not surprised."

What did that mean?

Tami followed him back to the dining room, where he sat with a hand on his knee, eased back in his chair a little, and studied her. "I read four Stephen King books last month," he said.

Four? That sounded like a lot for a man who didn't read for pleasure. Why had he been reading them, then? To judge _her_ tastes? "And what did you think?" she asked, even though she knew what he thought from Eric.

"I didn't care for any of them, except _The Body_ , which was nothing like the others."

Tami was trying to imagine a twelve-year-old Mr. Taylor, with a gang of odd friends, like those in the book, setting out to find a dead body. He'd had an even more dramatic coming of age, she supposed, though, having left a negligent home at fifteen. "That's one of my favorites, actually," she told him. "I heard they're making a movie version."

"I don't watch movies, except when my wife asks me to."

"Oh."

"Let me ask you something, Tami. Are you serious about my son? Because he seems quite serious about you."

"Uh…yes, sir, I am."

"I hope you don't break his heart. It could really distract him from his college studies. He's strangely sensitive. He has trouble concentrating when his emotions get in the way."

"That's…that's not strange. That's normal, Mr. Taylor."

"Hmm."

"And I don't intend to break his heart."

"Intend? So you think you might do it accidentally?" he asked.

It sounded like a joke, but he did not appear to be joking. "I don't intend to do it accidentally either," she said.

"You _can't_ intend to do something accidentally."

"I know." Tami didn't know what to say. What if Mr. Taylor asked her if they were having sex, the way he'd bluntly asked Eric if he was using condoms before they were even having sex? He wouldn't _do_ that, would he? But he didn't have much sense of social impropriety either, did he?

"Are you and Eric…"

 _Oh God. Please no_ , Tami thought.

"Are you two…"

 _Please no. Please don't. No._

"…planning to get married?"

Tami felt so much relief that he hadn't asked about sex that she didn't think to feel awkward about what he had asked. "We're serious about each other," she said. "But we have college to think about first."

"Good!" Mr. Taylor announced. "Good answer."

The front door opened. A wave of relief washed over Tami.

"That was quick," Mr. Taylor called.

"Well, Joan got sick and threw up in the middle of the meeting," Mrs. Taylor answered, appearing in the door frame. "Oh, Hello, Tami." She flashed Tami a pleasant smile. "It's nice to see you."

"I thought you were Eric," her husband said. "He's gone to help Mrs. Thomas change a light. Have you eaten? There's gumbo left."

"I love your gumbo." Mrs. Taylor disappeared into the kitchen, from which she called, as though she'd said it a hundred times before, "Thank you for the flowers. My favorite."

[*]

As they stood by Tami's car later, Eric apologized. "I'm sorry I left you alone with him like that, but he clearly wanted a word with you." He winced. "What did he say?"

"That I better not break your heart."

"My dad? No way. What did he _really_ say?"

"Pretty much that." She kissed him. "You're dad's weird, Eric."

"Yeah. You've told me that before. What do you want me to do about it?"

She shrugged. "Maybe cut him some slack?"

"What?"

"It can't be easy being weird. And it seems like he's _trying_."

Eric, looking puzzled, shook his head.

"I love you," she told him and gave him one last kiss before getting in her car.


	56. We May Make Our Plans

Tami wasn't going to tell Kimberley about the proposal, as much as she was itching to, because she had said no, and she didn't want to embarrass Eric by sharing her refusal. So instead, when they met at the sandwich shop on Main Street for lunch one day, she said, "Eric and I have started talking about the future. Like, maybe someday after college we might get married."

Kimberley crunched down on a chip. "I'm not surprised. Jack and I were talking about how y'all seemed headed in that direction."

"Have you told him yet?"

"That I'm breaking up with him? No. I keep trying to, but then he keeps doing something sweet or adorable, and I can't bring myself to do it. But I will soon. I know I have to do it in person, as much as I hate to. Then he'll go off to Oklahoma and find some gorgeous Catholic cheerleader. He'll forget about me completely in two months."

"Yeah, sure, because that's how that works when you're in love with someone, huh?" Tami sipped her coke. "Two months?"

"How long did it take you to get over Mo, once Eric started walking you home?"

"But I didn't love Mo like I love Eric," Tami said.

"Jack doesn't love me like you love Eric either." She pointed to Tami's untouched potato chips. "You gonna eat those?"

[*]

"When you make the second proposal, our senior year of college," Tami told Eric as she cast her fishing rod from the pier into the lake, "I want it to be a surprise."

The sun twinkled on the water's surface. This was a nice, quiet way to spend a Saturday morning after their work week. Saturday was their special day.

Eric tugged at his own rod and began to reel it in. "I didn't surprise you with the first one?"

She laughed. "You _seriously_ surprised me. But I mean…I want…"

"Something more romantic next time?"

"Yeah," she admitted.

He reeled in a tin can and cursed. He unhooked it, tossed it to the shore, and rebaited his hook. "I'm not hiring anyone to do any skywriting, you know."

She pushed his shoulder playfully, and he grinned.

"I'll turn up a notch, though," he promised. "Next time."

"So…about the sex…" She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Wednesday nights…I'm just saying…My family's not home."

Eric shook his head. "If we're not getting married until after college, then we can't do it in your father's house. What about the coffee shop?"

"What?" she exclaimed, momentarily imagining him bending her over the counter.

"There's a backroom. After closing, before I walk you home, we could…you know…"

She often walked to the coffee shop to read and visit after she got off work at 5. Now that it was summer, Eric was working there almost full-time, from noon to the 7 o'clock close.

"Like, do it in the _supply_ closet? Eww!"

"Nah. It's spacious," he said. "And there's a couch and a coffee table back there. It's like a breakroom. I have a locker back there. I can put a blanket in it. We can cover the couch and – "

"- Yeah, I guess we _better_ cover it, in case anyone else has ever had a similar idea."

"We can make our own nest back there," he said. "No one's coming in there after closing."

"What about security cameras?"

"He doesn't have any back there. He trusts his employees."

Tami chuckled. "Maybe he _shouldn't_ trust his employees, if one of them is thinking of taking a girl back there." She smiled teasingly at him. "That sounds kind of risqué for you. I'm sure you'd be breaking some rule to do that. You don't break rules, do you?"

"Some things are worth breaking the rules for." He grinned, switched his pole to his right hand, and slid an arm around her waist. "Some _people_ are worth breaking the rules for. Please?"

"I guess it could be exciting," she said with a smile, and wondered how they would do it the first time on that couch, if he would sit, and she would straddle him. Tami decided they would.

[*]

They young couple enjoyed a summer of adventurous sexual exploration in the back room of the coffee shop, when the chairs were up, and the sign was turned, and the floor was shiny clean.

When Eric walked Tami home after their fooling around, they would talk. One evening, he said, "Did Kimberley tell you she broke Jack's heart?"

"I haven't talked to her since Monday. So she told him it's over?"

Eric nodded. "Cruel girl."

"No she's not," Tami said. "Theirs just wasn't a forever romance. It was great for what it was, for _when_ it was. But she'll be in El Paso. He'll be in Oklahoma. Over seven hundred miles, Eric. And they're so different."

"So are we."

She slid her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. "We balance each other."

He sighed. "He's really choked up about it, Tami. He was thinking she might be the one."

"Really?"

"Well, she's the first girl he's ever dated seriously, for more than a couple months, and the only one he's come anywhere near sex with."

"I feel bad for him," she said. "But he'll find someone else. Maybe we should see if he wants to hang with us Saturday?"

"He's leaving tonight for Oklahoma. Said there was nothing here for him anymore, and he might as well get settled. He and I are going out together for one last hurrah," he glanced at his watch, "in forty-five minutes."

"Oh. You want me to come?"

"No. I mean - "

"- It's okay. Boys thing. I get it."

"Thanks." He looked down at his feet. "I hope Jack and I stay friends," he said quietly. "He's really my only friend, besides you. I don't make friends easy. But I don't guess we will. College does that."

She slid her hand from his pocket and to his hand and squeezed it. "You never know." They walked quietly for a long time, and she thought it best to take his mind off the subject of fading friendships. "When you do propose our senior year," she said, "you know you have to officially ask my father for my hand in marriage?"

"Yeah, I figured he'd be old school like that."

"Who are you kidding?" Tami asked. " _You're_ old school like that. If we ever have a daughter, you'll want her boyfriend to come to you like that."

"Nah. That custom will be long dead by the time any daughter of ours is old enough to get married. At forty."

Tami laughed. "Because you're not letting her date until she's thirty?"

"Exactly." He smiled at her.

"Would you rather have boys or girls?"

"Three of each."

Tami stopped walking. "Six kids!"

He laughed. "Nah. Two sounds good to me. And I'd rather they both be girls."

They started walking again. "I want two, too," Tami said, "but a boy and a girl. I'm surprised you wouldn't want sons."

"I think there's less chance I'll become my father with girls."

"You won't become your father no matter what. You think _I'd_ let you?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "See, that's why I love you. You want me to be my best self."

They would, Eric and Tami decided, get married the summer after they earned their B.A.'s. They would then both look for work in Austin, Houston, Dallas, or San Antonio. Tami wanted to live in one of those cities. After working for five years each at their respective careers, they would then, and only then, have their first child.

They had it all planned out, right down to the last letter, but, as the Reverend Hayes once told Mr. Taylor, "We may make our plans, but God has the last word."

 **[*]**

Tami transferred to UT-Austin after her freshman year of college. Eric asked her to move in with him, but she refused. They fought about it briefly, but he finally agreed it was for the best that they didn't. Neither set of parents would be pleased.

They might as well have moved in together, however, for all the nights she spent in his apartment, sneaking by the rooms of his smirking roommates, and all the nights he spent in hers, doing the same.

Toward the end of her sophomore year, Tami discovered that, despite being on the pill, she was pregnant.

She waited until both of her apartment mates were out of town and Eric was spending the night at her place to tell him. Nervously, she informed Eric that they had become a part of a rare statistic, a party to the 1% failure rate.

He began to pace across the small living room. His hair soon resembled a bird's nest from all his gripping of the strands. He sat down beside her on the couch. "Well," he said, after exhaling one long breath. "I guess we revise the plan."

"This was not the proposal I had in mind," she said.

"Me either, but it's the one you're getting. So will you marry me after exams?"

"I suppose I might as well."

[*]

Eric and Tami were barely 20 years old when they got married, a year and a half older than their daughter was when she had the audacity to engage herself to Matt. They imagined they were grownups then, just like Julie one day would. They were, and they weren't. The years and challenges ahead would forge their characters and their marriage.

In late May of Tami and Eric's sophomore year of college, the Reverend Hayes walked his pregnant but not yet showing daughter down the aisle and delivered her into Eric's trustworthy hands. Then he _also_ stepped up onto that stage and took his place between them, so that he might, with the power invested in him, join them in holy matrimony.

How life unfolded from there would require an entire book, and that's another story, perhaps, for another time. But let's leave our nervous, happy young couple at the altar, exchanging vows as they exchanged their rings, their future lives, full of shared joys and sorrows, stretched out like a colorful tapestry before them.

 **THE END**

 _ **A/N:** _ Sorry to draw it to an end, but I never planned for this to be a college story, and it's already near 100,000 words. A brief **_epilogue_** will follow in the next chapter to wrap up a few loose ends. Please comment!


	57. Epilogue

**[Epilogue]**

Tami, now sitting cross-legged on the new black leather loveseat they'd bought when they moved to Philadelphia, was tapping away on her laptop while Eric rummaged through a box labeled "mementos."

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"That plaque the Lions gave me. I want to hang it in my new office." Eric had started summer training with the Pemberton Pioneers just yesterday. A few unpacked boxes still lined the living room, study, and basement of their new town house. This place reminded Tami a little of her childhood home, the parsonage in which she had grown up, except that it was three stories instead of two, and she had a Jacuzzi soaking tub in the master bathroom.

"Tami," Eric said.

She looked up from her Braemore files.

He was holding something in his hand, some plastic looking thing. "You kept this?" he asked.

She squinted her eyes and saw that it was the plastic ring from the Cracker Jack box. "Of course I kept it," she said.

He grinned. "I had no idea you were so romantic."

"Well you're the romantic idiot who gave it to me," she said, closing the screen of her laptop and setting it on the coffee table.

Eric came and sat beside her on the couch, stretched his arm out across the back of the love seat, and faced her. "Gracie's asleep," he murmured.

"What are you suggesting?" she asked with a smile.

"Well, that ring just reminded me of something."

"Yeah. What's that?" Tami asked.

"The best blow job of my life. But I bet you could still top it."

Tami took his dark green Pioneers cap off his head and smacked him with it. "Not in response to that pathetic pick-up line, I can't."

He grabbed the hat out of her hand. "Hey, I got something neat in the mail today," he said.

"We're already getting _real_ mail here? We haven't even finished unpacking."

"It was an invitation from Jack, to the baptism of his and Gabriela's…what is this?"

Tami ruminated. "This would be their fifth kid now."

"Yeah, to the baptism of their fifth kid. Now that we're in Philly, we could actually go this time. How long a drive is it to New York?"

"Not long," she said. "And it would be great to see him again. What's it been? Ten years since he visited us?"

"Yeah, not since we were in Fort Worth."

"I wonder whatever happened to Kimberley," Tami mused. "I wish I'd stayed in touch. I can't believe you were better about staying in touch with your friends than I was with mine."

"Well, what coach doesn't want to stay in touch with a former professional football player?"

Jack had been drafted after his junior year of college and played for two years on the Arizona Cardinals before getting injured and cut. He took a year to do some soul searching after that, during which time he went on a missions trip to Puerto Rico and met his wife. He finished college, then law school, and was now a New York circuit court judge – not quite the ex-Jesuit Kimberley had joked he would one day be.

Tami leaned in and kissed him. Then she jerked her head toward the hallway.

"What?" he asked. "You got some kind of tick?"

"Damnit, Eric, do you want the best blow job of your life or not?"

He laughed, grabbed her hand, yanked her from the couch, and smacked her butt with his cap as she went tearing down the hall.

 **[A few years later...]**

Settling into Philadelphia was an adjustment for both Tami and Eric, especially Eric, but he did well with the Pioneers. Gracie took to metropolitan life like a fish to water, and she was now in third grade. Tami had just picked her up from after-school care and pulled the SUV into their driveway. The little girl ran ahead to the porch while her mother checked the mail. Hands full, Tami juggled until she had her key out, and eventually they made their way inside.

"Please put those clothes away you left out this morning, sweetie," she told Gracie, and then went into the kitchen and dropped the pile of mail on the counter. That was when she spied the worn postcard with a vaguely familiar looking picture of a painting. She stared at the painting for a while, trying to remember where she had seen it. She looked down at the bottom corner, where the print read, _Odessa Museum of Art_.

Tami smiled and flipped the postcard over. Written in her husband's small block print, in the note space as well as above and below the address, to squeeze in all the words, was the following:

 _Dear Tami,_

 _Told you I'd send it to you one day. I got the job. You're looking at the new offensive coordinator of the Washington State Cougars, but I guess you know that by now. I'll probably be getting home just as you read this._

 _I hear WSU could use a new Dean of Admissions. There's no one I'd rather have by my side. What do you say to the left coast?_

 _All my love,_

 _Eric_

 **THE END**


End file.
